


The Phantomess

by Christine1911



Category: The Phantom of the Opera
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christine1911/pseuds/Christine1911
Summary: Set in the world of The Phantom Of The Opera, a young girl who goes only by Chris is found near-dead by Erik in the sewers of Paris. Mute and unable to dance, she has no place in the opera house, except maybe as a stage hand.





	1. Discovered

**Author's Note:**

> This is based of the original book by Gaston Leroux. I do not own any I the characters or trademarks from the book. Chris is my own made up character, I do own her.

I woke up in a cloud of a bed, softer than anything I had ever owned or used. Groaning, I rolled from my side to my chest, inhaling the intoxicating scent of the sheets. I heard a small chuckle and sat up, too quickly. Hand on my forehead, I leaned back on my elbow. "Are you okay?" I heard a gentle, masculine voice. I nodded and signed 'yes'. Removing my hand, I stared at the man in front of me. He was tall, taller than me by far. I had always been on the short side. He was well dressed, in a black suit and dress shoes. His hair was silky black and slicked back with style. What got me was his face. It was half covered by a white mask, perfectly conformed to his features. It had no visible strings or wires holding it on. I tilted my head slightly to one side, curious. The half of his face I could see was very handsom. He stood silently as I took this all in, but his eyes never left my face. He didn't look me over or examine me as I did him. I locked my eyes back into his deep blue ones. "What's your name?" I let out a silent sigh and signed 'Call me Chris'. He stared at me. I blinked, slow and long, holding my eyes shut for several seconds. When I opened them, I motioned writing, asking through my gestures if he had anything for me to write on. He stared, obviously confused, for several minutes while I panicked internally. This time, he tilted his head to the left. "You don't talk do you?" I shook my head, resisting the urge to sign the answer. He nodded silently and walked to the nightstand next to the bed. He rifled through the drawer for a while before pulling out a pen and wad of paper. 

Flattening out the paper against the nightstand, I wrote out "I am Chris" and handed it to him. "Chris?" I nodded. He mimicked the action. "Okay, Chris. What do you remember. I signed 'nothing' then frowned. He placed the paper in my outstretched hand and handed me the pen. 'Nothing'. "You don't remember anything? Nothing at all?" I shook my head. "Chris, I found you in the sewers, beaten and near drowned." I was appalled. Who would do that? Am image of a man, with brown hair and eyes, flashed into my mind, and I shivered. He would. Who is he? "Chris?" I realized I had been staring at my hands. I jerked my head up and signed 'sorry'. Of course he didn't understand, so I smiled and wrote it down. He leaned over the table and read it. "No need for apologies. Tell me, do you know where you are?" 'Your house?' I wrote. He nodded, frowning. "And where do I live? Do you know?' I shook my head. "We are under the Opera Populair, in Paris." I nodded, somehow knowing the place. Suddenly, a title popped into my mind. The Phantom of the Opera. I wrote it down, adding it to a question. 'Are you the Phantom of the Opera?' He read it and stared at me. Slowly, he opened his mouth. "Yes." I nodded. "Is that...alright?" I shrugged. 'I don't see why not'. He stared at me again, clear shock on his face. I raised and eyebrow, asking a silent what? The Phantom chuckled again. "Nothing. It's just...no one's ever been so fine with it." I smiled and wrote 'They obviously don't see the real you'. 

"What does that mean?" I shrugged, then thought. Finally, 'You seem like a good person. A title shouldn't--and doesn't--change that'. "You are truly remarkable." I blushed. "Do you have any place to go?" I shook my head. "Would you like to stay at the opera house?" I nodded my head vigorously. He laughed outright this time, and it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. "Can you dance?" I sighed and shook my head. He pursed his lips. "You can't sing, you can't dance...could you be a stage hand?" I thought hard before writing 'maybe'. "I will arrange you to be taught and taken in." 'Thank you' I signed, then wrote. "You are very welcome." He left through a door. With the Phantom gone, I started to explore the small sleeping room. There was a large bed, and the nightstand that held my paper and pen. Closing the open ink, I placed it in top of the paper, pen beside it. I wandered the room, poking at the dresser and mirror. There was a door that separated the room from a bathing room. I poked around the porceline tub, wondering at the glass nobs and metal spout. I felt a presence behind me, and turned to face the Phantom. "Are you ready?" 'Yes', I signed, then nodded. "Come with me then." He reached out his hand, and I took it immediantly. We left the bathing and bed rooms, walking through a hallway into a large open room with a piano lit by candles. We left this room to a large shore and lake. Boarding a boat, he pushed off and steered down the lake until we hit another shore. We disembarked and he took my hand, leading me up a winding maze of tunnels, set at a steady incline. Finally, we reached a door, which he opened. "Find madam Giry. Hand her this," he pressed a sealed letter into my hands. "She will make sure you are taken care of." I nodded, then signed 'will I ever see you again?' He shook his head, confused. I waved it away, then stepped through the door. I watched it close to reveal a mirror, and then looked around what I assumed was a dressing room. I located the door with my eyes, but first found a paper and another pen with ink. I quickly wrote 'I need Madam Giry' and left it as I found it, minus the paper. Leaving the room, I wandered the halls, right into a dress rehersal of a play. I stood in the wings and watched a woman sing. That is, until a backdrop fell on her. She screamed, and I let out a silent laugh. Someone screamed that it was the Phantom of the Opera, and I laughed again. It seemed like something he would do, and I've barely known him ten minutes.

An argument happened between two men and the singer, who stormed off in anger, refusing to come back. One of the three men standing together, the one who hadnt argued, took his leave, claiming to be in Frankfurt should they need his help. A woman with a long brown braid, clad in black, stepped forward with a note identical to the one I held. She had barely got out "I have a message from the Opera Ghost" before I stepped behind her, gently tapping we shoulder. She turned, and I handed her the paper with madam Giry's name. "I am Madam Giry," she stated, confused. I realized how I must look in my dirty, mud-stained white dress. Handing her the Phantom's letter, I stepped back. Her eyes widened, and she ripped open the letter. Scanning it, the looked at me, then read it again, slowly. Slower than anyone would have liked.

"What does it say?" Asked one of the men.

"This girl is to be Buquet's new stage hand. The man I assumed was Buquet stepped forward. "It has been ordered by the Opera Ghost." She looked at me again. "You are mute?" I nodded. "Very well. Buquet, you will train her. Be very gentle."


	2. The Gala

"Meg!" A little blonde girl stepped forward from where she was whispering to a brunette.

"Yes, mother?"

"Show Miss..." Madam Giry scanned the letter, "Chris to the dormitories." She glanced over at me. "And get her something to wear." I blushed furiously before signing 'thank you'. Everyone stared at me, and I blushed harder. 'Nevermind', I signed, then turned to Meg. I nodded silently, and she shook her head as if to clear it.

"Follow me, Chris." I stepped forward, but stopped and turned to Madam Giry. I pointed to the Phantom's letter, then to me. 'May I have it?' was my silent question. She seemed to understand, and handed me the letter, and the paper asking for her. I lowered my head, bowing it to her in an improvised thank you. Clutching the letter to my chest, I followed Meg off stage, up several sets of stairs, and into a large shared room, filled with dozens of beds. She scanned around a bit, then finally walked forward. "This bed is empty. You can stay here." She looked around, searching for something. "You don't own anything?" I shook my head no. "Okay. Let's see if I have anything." She walked over to her bed and pulled a suitcase out from under it. She laid it on top of the bed and pulled out several dresses. She found one she thought might fit, and handed it to me. "There's a bathroom through there. You can bathe and get dressed. Think you can find your way back to stage?" I nodded and shook my hand yes. She glanced at it, and I hid it in my skirt. I bowed my head to her as I had her mother, and moved to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I found towels under the wash bin, and filled the tub. I laid out the pretty blue dress and pulled off my ruined one. Sinking into the freezing water, I grabbed a tag off the edge of the tub and scrubbed my skin pink before using soap to clean and refresh. Whatever had happened, I didn't want a trace of it on me anymore. I would start new, a new home, new friends. I counted the Phantom as the only one so far, but it was a start. When the water had turned brown from the sewer mud that covered me, I climbed out and dried off, pulling the new, clean dress over my skin. Meg was taller than I was, but I managed not to trip over the hem as it dragged on the floor. I soaked and scrubbed my white dress in the tub, and most of the mud came off, though there were still several stains. I drained the water out the window, and searched the room. There were pins by the towels, and I used them to fashionably roll up the front of the dress, leaving the back to drag behind me. Gathering my dress in my hands, I left the room and hung my dress out the dormatory window to dry. The sun was starting to set, and I hurried down the steps and back to the stage. The ballet girls were dancing, and I found Madam Giry standing to the side, watching with the eye of a hawk. I want around the dancers to her side, and stood silently. Not even my footsteps made a sound on the hollow floor of the stage. When the ballet finished, Madam Giry escorted me up to the flys, introducing me to a burly man by the name of Joseph Buquet. I smiled and signed 'It's nice to meet you monsiuer Buquet'. He stared at me and grunted.

"You heard of the Opera Ghost?" I nodded.

"Buquet! Hold your tounge!" He stared and grunted again. "Know anything about the flys?" I shook my head, signing 'no'. Buquet sadly shook his head. "The things that Ghost demands..." He grabbed me by the forearm and pulled me across the rafters, talking fast and gruff. "These ropes control the scenes. One, two, three, four." He pointed at each one quickly, but I immediantly forgot which was which. I signed 'can you show me again?', but he didn't see--or ignored--my movements. _____________________________ I walked into the dormitories, exhausted. Even the ballerinas had gone to bed already. I found my bed was the only empty one, except there was a nightgown laying on top of the covers. I gratefully slipped it on and lay down, falling asleep almost instantly ____________________________ 

I woke up before everyone else and headed to tha flys. Buquet wasn't there, but some others were. I was trying to think of how to ask for help, cursing myself for forgetting my paper, when a very sweet looking young man tapped me on the shoulder from behind. He had blond hair and dark green eyes. "Hey. I saw you yesterday with Buquet. He was kinda rough...need some help?" I nodded and smiled, greatful. He smiled back, shyly, and started showing me around. He went much slower than Buquet had, and stopped to make sure I got everything down. "It's Chris, right?" I nodded and pointed to him. "Jaques." He only asked me yes or no questions, not wanting to put me in an akward position. He continued to glance back when he thought I couldn't see. What was he looking at? We went across the whole stage and all it's different tricks. When we reached everything, and I was sure I got it down, I looked back at all I had done. When I turned back around, I was met with a pair of lips on mine. My eyes had barely widened when he pulled away. "I-I'm sorry. I don't...I shouldn't have..." I smiled and kissed him, quick and sweet. Just a peck really. He looked at me and I smiled. He did the same and laughed nervously. "Thank goodness." I giggled silently. ______________________________ The rest of the day was spent with Jacques as he quized me on what everything did, asking for a specific change and having me show him what to do. By the end of the day, at the Gala, I knew as much as he did and, hopefully, as much as Buquet. I watched the opera from the rafters, glad I had only one job, which was the cloud movements on Think Of Me. I stayed up there long after the performance ended, thinking to myself, listening to music that echoed in my head. I longed to sing with the music, as I always did. Still, I bit my tounge and cried at the loss of my voice. Getting up from where I sat, I decided to go see the Phantom. I walked quietly to the dressing room with the hidden door of a mirror. Pushing it open took most of my force, but it was worth it. I recalled the path the Phantom took me down and mentally flipped it backwards. Following this, I made it to the lake, but there was no boat. The Phantom must have it at his home. It was then I heard a soft singing. My ears picked up on it, and I listened to the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. "Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses..." It was beautiful. I listened while he sang, but soon I started to wonder if there was someone with him. Was it the song's lyrics, or was he actually talking to someone? I was curious, but I wasn't about to ruin Meg's dress. I stood at the edge of the lake, silent as always, listening to the Phantom's song and comitting it to memory. His voice, the lyrics, all of it. When he finished with a high note, I knew he was singing to someone. I don't know how, I just know. When it was clear the song has ended, I turned to leave, just as organ music began to drift my way. The song was haunting, sad, and truer than it should be. I felt the depth of despair and the haunting melody of death. I wanted to sing along, more than I had ever wanted to sing with my own music. My music seemed like child's play compared to this. Only when my bare feet touched the water did I realize I had begun walking forward. I wanted to forget the dress, the cold, and swim all the way to him, but I didn't. Just barely I didn't. Instead I stood there, barely in the water, listening to the melody. I had never heard music so sweet When the song ended, a new one began. The Phantom would play a few bars and then pause before resuming. It seemed to me he must be composing. This continued for most of the night before he suddenly stopped. Instead, I heard a girl singing...it sounded familiar...I shrugged it off and turned to leave. I couldn't feel the ground with my feet. I was worrying about them being in the cold water so long when I heard the Phantom scream. He started yelling at the girl, but it made no sense out of context. I listened to him, and felt my heart both sink and swell as he shouted. He thinks he's damned...how could he be? He was such a good man inside. Suddenly, through the fallen silence, I heard him speak. "Come, we must return. Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you." He was coming this way! I ran, but through my panic the directions back fled my mind, and I became lost. Once the panic faded and I realized this, I tied to retrace my steps, but I only managed to get more lost. I heard the faint sound of someone talking, and I ran to follow it, but it echoed in the caverns. Racing through to try and catch the voice that must have been the Phantom's, I tripped. Sliding across the floor, I rammed head first into the wall of a corner. My vision spun and pain engulfed me. I reached my hand up and felt sticky wet blood, lots of it. I pushed myself up and started to walk, desperate to find the Phantom. Each step sent a shockwave of pain through my scraped legs and arms up to my pounding head. Within minutes, I could go no further. I had lost too much blood, I was in too much pain. I laid on the floor, ready to die. The music in my head seemed to escape with the blood and swirl around me. Figuring it was the last chance I would ever have, I started to hum the melody, then quietly sung. "Love never dies, love will continue..." My voice started raspy and hard-I hadn't spoken in years. Slowly though, my voice gained strength, and I was singing as loud as I could for just a moment before my voice started to fade away. I was so tired. I just wanted...to...sleep... I blacked out.


	3. Music

I woke up to the familiar scent of the Phantom's silk sheets. It was so much softer than I remembered, softer than the dormitory beds, even. I was laying on my back with a blanket spread over top of me. I started to sit up but fell back in dizziness. I hit my head on the soft pillows, but it still hurt my head. I reached an arm up and felt bandages encircling my head. I pulled my hand down to look at it and found it bandaged as well. Pulling back the blanket, I saw the cuts on my legs had also been cleaned and bandaged. The Phantom. He must have found me, treated me. Hesitant, I crawled out of the bed and walked to the main room, closing the door softly behind me. Silent as a mouse, I walked to through the hallway to a dining room through another door. I found the parlor with a piano and stuffed couches and chairs. I went over to the piano. I had never played, but the sight of it filled me with excitement. I pressed a short note, then pressed it again, letting it resonate. The sound filled me with joy. My heart lept as I pressed keys until I found the one I was looking for. I held it out, and then searched for the next note. Slowly, I began to pluck out the tune in my head. Once I had a dozen or so notes, I sat at the bench and played each one with a small ding, then I counted off to four with my mind, and found the timing. One was held out for two, others four, and some didn't even reach a full one count. I played through what I had down, matching the notes to those in my head. I became lost in the song, making up lyrics in my mind as I played. It was perfect. That is, until I hit a sour note, and the music rushed through my head without me, leaving my fingers sad and empty at the lack of music. I heard the door open and looked over to the Phantom. 

"That...what was that?" I shrugged. 'I don't know', I signed. He shook himself and stood up straighter. "Are you hungry?" I nodded slowly. "I'm making dinner. Does that sound nice?" He spoke to me like I was a child. I wanted to resent him for it, but I couldn't deny he had saved my life--twice. I followed him out of the parlor into a dining room, where he pulled out a chair for me to sit. I signed 'thank you' and sat. He nodded. "You are welcome." I smiled, genuinely. 'You understood!' He stared. "Sorry. I have no clue what that one is." Oh...He guessed the first one. I shook my head and smiled, trying to make it as convincing as possible. He left through another door and came back with a tray with two plates of food and a tea kettle with cups. He set a plate in front of me, and I swore it was more food than I had ever been given. I tried to act nonchalant, but I heard the Phantom chuckle softly. Clearly he saw my amazement. I waited for him to pour tea and sit with his plate before I began eating. I picked slowly at the food, eating less than half before I could take no more. I sat back in my chair, smiling at him. "What?" I raised my eyebrows and shook my head, signing 'nothing'. He stared at my hands, and I hid them under the table. There was a long silence. Suddenly, the Phantom spoke. "Tell me a story." I was taken aback. I titled my head in confusion, squinting my eyes. He laughed. "Tell me a story. With your hands." I stared at him. "Come on!" He said it teasingly. Well...He won't understand any of this...

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before starting. 'Once there was a girl, who was born to a family who didn't want her. She was abandoned in the streets to die, but a mother who had just lost her own baby found her. Taking her in, she was raised and fed by that mother. Her husband, however, had never wanted a second child. He said it was bad enough the first time. As soon as she was old enough, she was cooking and cleaning the house, serving them like a slave. She was often beaten for not doing a good enough job, and when she turned fifteen, the family's son took an interest in her. On her sixteenth birthday, he forced her to bed with him.' I paused and breathed deeply, tears welling in my eyes. The Phantom had been staring in awe at my hands as they moved. When I stilled, how eyes flicked to my eyes, seeing the tears in them.  'She cried the whole time, and for hours afterwords. Every time she saw him she was terrified he would do the same again.

'When the father discovered the girl had become pregnant, he screamed and dragged her from the house. He tossed her in the streets and beat her until he was sure she would die, and the baby with her. Then, he tossed her into the sewers to drown, for the girl could not swim. She nearly died, until a man, with a reputation for evil, saved her and took care of her.' I had closed my eyes through the whole thing, allowing tears to stream down my face. I stilled, the story done, and opened my eyes. The Phantom sat across the table, looking sad. He slowly stood and came over to me, kneeling by my chair. He reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. I leaned into the gentle embrace. "I am sorry. I never meant to upset you." I smiled sadly to tell him it was okay, and reached up to touch his face. I caressed his cheek, running a hand over his closed eye. I brought my other hand up to the side of his face that was masked. I ran that hand over his mask and into his hair. I fingered the edge of his mask, and he stiffened. I pulled away, and he stood up and walked away, behind a door, which he slammed shut. I cringed at the sound, and sat frozen for several minutes. Getting up, I cleared the table and walked through the door the Phantom had come out of to find the kitchen. I scrapped the food that hadn't been eaten and washed the dishes. I wanted to explore more, but I didn't want to intrude. Instead, I went back to the parlor and continued to work on the music on the piano. I spent hours there seated at the bench, until I could play most of the song, at least in the upper register. I tried use two hands to play the lower key, but my hands wouldn't listen to my commands and move opposite each other. Instead I focused on the upper hand, perfecting the song. I was so lost in the music, I didn't hear the Phantom walk in. He stood silently behind me for several minutes before sitting down beside me. I jumped and fell off the bench, and he laughed before helping me up. He gestured for me to play and I complied. Soon he joined in, playing the lower parts perfectly matched with the music in my head. I stared at him, surprised. Could he...? No, he couldn't possibly...could he? Is it possible we both hear the same songs? As we played, he started to sing along, lost in the music. I stopped playing to listen, and he took over both parts.

When the song ended, the last notes dying beneath his fingers, I was still in awe. He turned to me, and I to him, and the most amazing thing happened. "You hear it too, don't you?" 'Yes' I signed. 'I do'. He pulled me up off the bench, standing himself, and spun me in his arms. "I'm not alone! I'm...I'm not alone..." I smiled. 

'No. You're not. Neither am I.'


	4. Learning

The Phantom smiled at my hands, then looked into my eyes. "I've never met anyone...never thought...you hear it!" I giggled silently into my hand. He stared at me oddly. I tilted my head to the right. 'What?' "Nothing. Just...there's a song stuck in my head." I smiled, gesturing to the piano. 'Play it', I signed. He nodded and sat at the piano. He took a deep breath and leaned in, then a melody flodded from this fingers. It was soon joined by the lower hand. The melody was slightly familiar, but I didn't understand what it was until the Phantom started to sing.

"Who knows when love begins, who knows what makes it start?

One day it's simply there, alive inside your heart..." The Phantom heard the sound of my knees hitting the hard floor, and he stopped. When he saw me on the ground, he rushed to my side. "Are you okay?" I nodded, then shook my head. 'I don't know'. He nodded, seeming to understand. There was a long silence. "I am sorry." I looked at him. "I heard it last night, it led me to you." I nodded. "Was...was it you?" I nodded slowly. "You can talk," he said simply. I sighed and nodded. "But you don't." I nodded once more. "Does it have to do with the story you told me?" My head snapped to him. Slowly, I nodded sadly. "I'm sorry."

'Don't apologize". I hoped my eyes conveyed what my hands said. He stared at them a long while, even after I hid them in the ripped blue gown. "Will you...teach me?"

'Teach...you want to sign?' He stared at me, and I looked around for paper and a pen. He understood and stood to go fetch some. He left the room, and I moved to the couch. He came back within minutes: paper, pen, and ink in his hands. I took them with a greatful smile, and wrote out 'you want to learn to sign?' "Is it called signing?" I signed 'yes'. "Then yes. Please, teach me to sign." I smiled. It had been years since I stopped talking. No one had ever wanted to learn my language. He grinned back at me, and I quikly wrote 'We'll start with the alphabet'. He nodded and turned to me. I raised my hands and signed the letter A, and he mimcked me. I moved to B, and we continued that way. On the trickier letters I took his hands and folded his fingers properly. His hands were warm and soft, and I marvelled at them. These were not the hands of a killer!   
______________________________

By the time we checked the clock in the wall, it was almost eight in the morning. The Phantom offered to make breakfast, saying I could change into any of the dresses in the wardrobe. I walked back to the room.with the swan bed--I didn't dare call it my room--and found a pink dress, which was pretty but drab. It looked like something a scullery make would wear, but it was the simplest dress I could find. I couldn't navigate the flys in any of the puffy Prima Donna dresses. I went to the dining room, but the Phantom was still in the kitchen. I went in, walking up behind him. 'Can I help?' I signed, pointing to the small stove. I could see he wanted to argue, but I pleaded with my eyes to be able to help. "Oh, all right. You can make tea." I smiled and started opening drawers, looking for a kettle. He whistled to get my attention and pointed to a cupboard, and inside I found the kettle I had been searching for. I filled it with water from the sink and mixed the tea leaves into the warmed water. The tea was done about the time the Phantom had finished setting the table, and I brought it out to him. He smiled and pulled out my chair, helping me sit. I thanked him. "How do you sign 'you're welcome'?" I showed him, and he mimcked me perfectly. "Like this?" I nodded excitedly. He smiled and signed it again before sitting on the opposite side of the table. We ate  in a comfortable silence for a while before the Phantom broke it. "One day...I would like to hear your story." I stiffened. It was one thing I sign it when he didn't understand my movements, but to actually tell him what had happened to me? My thoughts were broken by his smooth voice. "You dont have to! I just thought...maybe someday...if you're comfortable, that is..." I smiled at his cute sputtering and nodded. "Yes?" 'Maybe'. He didn't seem to understand, so I waved one hand back and forth. "Ah. Of course, my dear." I blushed a little and hid behind my hair. He chuckled slighty and I giggled with him. 

When we were done with breakfast--I had again eaten hardly anything off my plate, I signed 'I should get back' and pointed to the door. "Must you go? We have so much to learn!" I smiled and signed 'I will visit tonight', then wrote it out. I went to leave, but the Phantom stopped me. "Chris!" I turned back around. "Keep the pen. You could use one up there. I smiled and accepted the feather pen and ink he pressed into my hands. 'Tonight', I signed. "Tonight," he said, repeating the sign.


	5. Melodies

Buquet was outraged at me for leaving for such a long time--I had been gone a full day. As punishment, he refused to let me have a place in the flys at the next performance of Il Muto. I was a little upset, but it also allowed me to watch the performance unfold from the seats rather than the wings. I loved the play, and I wanted to know it more. That night in the dormatories, I walked up to Christine Daae.

"Hi, Chris." I wave, sheepish. She was holding her score in her hands, the entire play. I eyed it longingly, and she seemed to notice. "Want to see?" I nodded shyly and sat beside her on her bed. She laid the book in my lap, and I opened the first page. I read through every line, comitting it to memory. Soon the pages turned faster and faster. Christine laughed gently. "You really love this play, don't you?" I nodded, eyes scanning over the pages. "How about you keep it tonight?" I was shocked. 'Really?' "I don't need it tomorrow since there's no rehersal. Just, being it back before rehersals start up again." 'Thank you thank you thank you!' I signed. I hugged her in excitement and scurried over to my bed. I read until the sun set, and then lit a candle to read some more. I had finished the first act when I heard a soft, woeful sound of a violin. I recognized the tune as my own, the one I had sung when I thought I was going to die. Smiling, I crawled out of bed, making my way down to the lake. I found the the boat waiting for me, ready to bring me to him. I happily climbed in and pushed off the dock. It was hard to steer, and I bumped into walls a few times. Each time this happened, I heard a faint chuckle underneath the violin tone, like the Phantom knew I had messed up. I smiled wider and this.

Eventually, I made it to the home under the opera house, and I walked up to the door. Knocking, I waited for the Phantom to come answer, but the violin kept playing. I knocked louder, but the Phantom ignored it. Thinking he didn't want to see me, but not wanting to leave the beautiful music, I sat on the ground outside the door. After what felt like hours of listening to the Phantom play, it stopped, and the door was thrown open. "You needn't wait outside. My home is yours, you are welcome any time." I smiled, understanding that he wanted me to feel truly welcome here. 'Thank you, Phantom'. I signed slowly, making sure he got every letter. He signed back at me. 'Erik.' I looked at him, signing 'what?' 'My name is Erik.' His signing was slow and rough, and he said me instead of my, but I corrected him and responded. 'It's nice to meet you, Erik'. Erik stared at me in confusion, and I spelled it out, showing him each sign afterwords. He repeated me, trying to remember the signs. He looked at me, stepping aside to invite me in. I took a step through the door before remembering Christine's score. I ran back to the boat, pulling it out of the bottom. I ran back to Erik where he stood, still holding the door open. He eyed the book in my arms as I ran, then glanced up at me, smiling. I smiled widely. "Where'd you get that?" 'Christine Daae' I signed slowly. His eyes lit up, and I smiled. He was in love with Miss Daae. I smirked just in time for him to turn to me. "What?" My smirk was now firmly set. 'Nothing' I signed, then spelled. He repeated the sign, then again with his eyebrows raised. I laughed silently, pushing air through my lips. 'Nothing!' I signed, 'Just...you love her.' There was a long silence.

"Okay, I understood 'you'." I shook my head, then spelled out 'You love her. Christine.' He blushed, and I giggled again. I walked over to the piano. 'Play for me'. He recognized play from the last time I came. He walked up to the piano I stood by. There was a draft, and I shivered, suddenly very cold. Erik turned to me, and I tried to smile, but my teeth began to chatter. In one graceful motion, Erik stood, took off his cloak, and laid it over my shoulders. It was far too long for me, but it was warm. I grabbed the edges and pulled it tight around me. Erik sat on the edge of the bench, leaving space for me. I say down, wrapped in Erik's cloak. It smelled just like him, that intoxicating scent that made me lightheaded and dizzy. I he started to play, and I leaned against him gently, as not to ruin the beautiful music. 'Hey', I waved to get his attention, 'play your music'. 'My music?' I signed 'yes', and he stared at me. I sighed and searched the piano for the right note. I found two what were close, but neither matched. "Black note," Erik finally offers. I hit the little black key between the two and found it a perfect match. From there I start to pluck at the melody. It took longer than I would have liked for Erik to figure out which of his songs I was playing. Finally, his eyebrows shot up, and he laid his hands on the keyboard, pushing mine gently aside. He started to play.

Within moments I had lost myself to the melody, closing my eyes. He stopped less than a quarter the way into the song. I opened my eyes, staring up at him. "Where...how do you know that song?" I tilted my head at him. 'I heard you play it, the night you saved me.' He looked back at me equally as quizically. "The night you almost drowned?" 'No, the next time'. "You mean when you hit your head and nearly died." I shook my hand affermative. He stared at me a while longer, and I turned away from the heat of his gaze. After several minutes of this sience, Erik placed his hands on the piano and started to play. It sounded amazing, but not the same. It didn't have the overwhelming power it had before. I frowned, and he noticed. He stopped playing and turned to me. "What's wrong?" 'It's not the same' I spelled. He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Come with me." He stood and left the room, me following close behind. He led me into a room I had never been in before. It was dark and black with funeral prayer words written on the walls. There was a coffin in the middle of the room, and an organ covering one wall. I stopped dead in my tracks just inside the room, but Erik kept walking, all the way to the organ. He started to play his song, and it sounded exactly as I remember that night. I felt tears run down my face, carving paths through my cheeks. I felt empty. The melody was sad, haunting, full of dispair. The harmony was equally as sad, and made the piece feel both empty and full. Full of truth, but empty of joy. I couldn't even begin to describe the lower chords.

Slowly, as the notes began to slow and die, I unfroze and moved to the organ. Erik was lost in the music, completely oblivious to me. I leaned over his should and started playing with one hand. My soul recognized the melody Erik played, and made it...more. Not better, persay, but more. I continued to add my hand to his two, and the melody changed. Mine was happy, light. It spoke of knowing pain and joy, and gradually Erik's part became less sad, more...hopeful. Soon Erik's music score was finished, but we kept playing. We played for hours, and neither of us noticed when the sun rose or set again.


	6. A Chorus Girl

When we finally stopped playing, I was dizzy and faint. My body finally caught up to me, to the lack of food and being bent over in the same position for almost twenty-four hours. I stood up, and fell to the floor. My head was spinning. Erik rushed off the bench to my side. I waved off his concerned look and moved to stand. I managed, but everything was still spinning, and I daren't walk.

"Here. Let me help." Erik grabbed my arm, supporting me. I leaned on him, letting him take my weight. We stumbled into the dining room, and Erik sat me in a chair. "You're starving. Your body isn't used to feeding off the music." I nodded. Erik turned away, and something in me panicked. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards me. "I'm going to make you something to eat," he said calmingly. My hands were now in his, rather than clamped around his forearm. He gently set them in my lap, and smiled as he turned to the kitchen. I waited anxiously for fifteen minutes before he came out, holding a bowl of thin soup. I took it and drank a little broth before placing my spoon back in the bowl. Erik looked at me sadly as I allowed my stomach to settle into the idea of food. 'What?' "You know not to eat too much, too fast." I stared at him quizically. "You've been starved before." His tone was as sad and solemn as my nod. I had, and I couldn't deny that. "Who hurt you? Who tried to kill you?" 'Lots of people hurt me, but it was my father who beat me.' He understood none but father of that sentence, and I knew he wouldn't. "I'll kill that idiot who hurt you!" He stood, and I panicked. He can't! I jumped up, hitting my knee on the table and falling to the ground. The sudden movement caused my head to start spinning again. Erik ran to me, helping me back into my chair. 'Please,' I signed, 'Don't'. He nodded, and I sighed. 'Thank you'. He signed back 'You're welcome', and I laughed. He was catching on very quickly. I taught him more signs as I slowly ate what my stomach would hold. When the soup was gone, I laid my head on the table, using my arms as a pillow. Erik chuckled, and I smiled at the sound. "Come on, off to bed." I raised my head enough to give him a look that said 'I am not getting up ever again', and he chuckled again. "Stand up," he commanded gently. I did, and was about to walk to my room when I felt strong arms grab my waist and legs. I was swept into Erik's arms, and I instinctively reached up and grabbed around his neck. I felt the muscles in his arms flex as a carried me down the hall. I felt myself blush at being so close to him, and I buried my face in his suited chest. I breathed deep as his smell overwhelmed me. Before we even made it to the room I had drifted off to sleep.  
______________________________

I woke up, exhausted still. It had been a deep, dreamless sleep, but it wasn't restful. I noticed the glass of water on the night stand, and I finally felt the dryness in my throat. I took the glass and drank a quarter of it, knowing better than to down it as I wanted to. I took the glass into the bathroom and ran a bath. There was no pump or bucket to fill the run with, so I walked over to the strange metal spout. I was surprised to find it was dripping water. Curious, I turned one the handle, the one labelled H. Water flowed from the spout. Not just any water, but warmed water. Smiling, I turned it off and moved the other handle. This one gave out cold water. I turned them both on, letting the porcelain tub fill. I brushed out my hair and took off my dress as the tub filled. Standing in front of the mirror, I studied the bruises that still covered my body from my father's beating. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he were gone for good...

I shake my head and snap myself out of it. The tub is full by the time my thick aburn hair is brushed. I sink into the tub, grateful for its warmth. I allow myself to relax as I wash, feeling, for the first time, that this so truly my home. When I am dry, I put on one of Erik's dresses. Because I don't have to work in the flys, I choose one of the truly beautiful ones. It was white, with a slim waist and flowed wide from the hips down. It had off-the-shoulder sleeves and was bautifully embroidered. I made a mental note to ask Erik where he got these beautiful dresses. Surprisingly, this dress wasn't too long for me, and I was greatful I didn't have to mess with it's beautiful design.

I left the room without re-wrapping the bandages on my arms and legs, not needing the cuts covered anymore due to their scabs. I looked down at my arms. I was going to be covered in scars. I frowned, sad. All I had ever wanted was to be beautiful enough; refined enoigh; for a man to look at me with something other than disdain. Even my brother would not have me now. I sighed and walked towards the kitchen. Erik was there, making breakfast once again. Without asking, I pulled out the kettle and made tea for us. When the tea was finished, I tried to help him with the food, but he pushed me away gently. "That dress is far too beautiful to ruin." I frowned and turned away, bringing the kettle out to the table. I didn't go back to the kitchen. Upset and on the verge of tears, I ran out of the house and took the boat. I didn't stop running until I was laying on my dormatory bed. I lay crying for only a minute before I decided to go explore the stage. So far, I had only seen it from above. I wiped my eyes and went to the main auditorium. I slowly walked up the steps to the stage, a feeling of reverence surrounding me. No one was here but me. I stood center stage and stared out at the tiered seating. I closed my eyes and imagined them full of people. Music filled my mind, and I started to move. First it was swaying gently to what only I heard, then I was spinning, twirling, leaping through the air. I balanced on my toes, did a perfect plie. I was lost, so lost I didn't notice Madam Giry walk in until I finished the final, slow spin, and landed. I saw her standing in the wings, watching me with interest. I blushed, dropping into a curtsy, my dress puffing around me with the air. I heard her step forward, and I lowered my head further. 

"Chris?" I nodded. She grabbed my chin and pulled me from my stance, until I was standing upright. "That was not bad." I blushed furiously now. "Would you like a place in our ballet? We could use a dancer like you to replace Miss Daae." 'Thank you, Madam. But you are too kind. I don't deserve it.' I signed this as I shook my head with a small smile, bowing it to her. "I take that's a no, oui?" I nodded, mouthing 'sorry'. She shook her head an walked off.

I was alone on the stage.


	7. Unforgivable

I walked back to the dormatories, only now realizing I'd left Christine's score in Erik's home. I threw my head back in annoyance. I couldn't even think his name without hearing his words. "That dress is far too beautiful..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I stood in a dress shop with my mother. She was standing on a raised box, being fitted for a dress. I wandered over to a dress that stood in the back of the shop. It was perfect, a lighter red with black accents. I reached out and brushed it. It was the softest dress I had ever felt. 

"Mother?" I called. Father walked up.

"What do you want?" I became very shy. Father had very hard fists.

"It's just...this dress..." I fell to the ground with the force of his palm hitting my cheek.

"You are nothing, you hear me? That dress is far too beautiful for the likes of you." I nodded silently. "Stand up." I obeyed, only to be struck to the ground once again, my small ten-year-old frame not able to withstand his force. He stalked away, and I swore then and there I would be silent. If I never spoke, never asked for anything, he only had so much to strike me for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Tears flowed down my cheeks and fell onto the pillow. I daren't ruin Erik's beautiful dress. I cried the night away in the dormatory, refusing to look at anyone. I shrugged off the few girls who tried to comfort me, and soon they stopped trying. I heard their whispers. I grew sadder. I fell asleep to my own tears and the sound of the whispers, words floating through my head louder than the music. "That dress is far too beautiful..."   
______________________________

I woke to the calming sound of music. I didn't recognize it as anything Erik had ever played for me. Then I heard him singing.

Masquerade, paper faces on parade   
Masquerade, hide your face   
So the world will never find you

I lay awake listening, before drifting back off to sleep. I'm sorry Erik, but I can't.  
______________________________

I woke up hours later to a familiar smell. Erik. I frowned internally as I sat up in the great swan bed. I was still in the white gown. I got up and changed into something plainer, less beautiful. I left the room and walked into the kitchen. I expected him to be there, but he was not. Curious, I walked into his room. The first thing I saw was him, lying on the coffin, asleep. I could see how breathing, and I knew he was, thankfully, alive. The next thing I saw--his face. It was red and deformed, skin pulling and creasing everywhere. I frowned in compassion as I looked at him. Truly, it was hardly terrible, but he must believe different of he always wears a mask. I caught sight of it, and considered throwing the thing in the fire. He didn't need it. He was still absolutely amazing. A title couldn't change who he was, and neither could a face. Deciding better of it, I slowly left, closing the door tight behind me. I want to be kitchen and started making breakfast, glad to be the one to do it. Cooking was the one chore I always loved, and I missed it in the time I had been here. I was so caught up in the task I didn't hear Erik get up, or the door opening. Still, my ears tuned in to the sound of his beautiful chuckle. I smiled and tilted my head in greeting, still focused on the cooking steaks. I sensed him smile crookedly as he walked over to me. He hugged me round the waist, and I blushed. Letting my hair fall into my face, I took a deep breath, breathing him in. Steak forgotten, I turned around to face him. I smiled shyly and bit my lip. His eyebrows creased in confusion. Quickly, I went up in my tip toes and kissed him. What did I just do?! I spun away from him as he stood frozen and stiff in shock. I grimaced at the silence on his end. Finally, he spun me around. I closed my eyes, waiting for the slap I knew was coming. Instead, I felt his lips on mine. My eyes flew open, then slipped shut. He started to pull away, and I grabbed his neck and pulled him back, deepening the kiss. My tounge pressed against his lips, and he opened his mouth to me. My tounge danced along his teeth before colliding with his, and they twisted together in passion. I lay my hands on the side of his face, feeling the lines of his jaw and cheeks. Without thinking, I pulled off his mask, dropping it to the floor. My hand was back on his face moments before he registered what I had done. He pulled away, screaming. At me, at the world, at everything. I tired to get his attention by waving at him, but he refused to see. He continued to scream, running at me, like I woud flinch away. I held my ground even as his eyes bored holes in me. Finally, with me pinned against the wall, he stopped yelling. He was breathing heavy, and I could almost hear his heart racing. I leaned forward, pecking him on the lips, but he grabbed me by my hair, slamming my head into the wall. I grimaced, and met his fiery eyes.

"What. Did. You. Do?!" He screamed. I took a deep breath. I was about to ruin everything. I raised my hands so he could see. 'Erik. I...I love you.' 

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see the hatred I knew would be on his face. 'I'm sorry'. I could feel the tension in the silence. It was so thick I could have cut it with the knife on the counter. There was a small draft, and I felt Erik grow farther away. I stayed there, eyes closed, for several minutes before I dare open them. When I did, I was alone in the kitchen, and everything was shut off. Erik's mask was no where to be seen. I peeled myself off the wall, tears threatening my eyes. Slowly, inch by inch, I walked to the door. Breathing deep, I opened it. Erik stood, setting the table, though everything was already in place. He pulled out a chair and waited for me to sit. I did, and he sat across from me. His mask was back on, and I frowned. Maybe it's better I know now than figure out later. We ate silently, and when we were done, I helped clean the dishes. He whole time, there wasn't a hint of anger in his eyes. Still, I felt like I had done something unforgivable. 'I should get back to the stage. The performance is tomorrow.' Erik nodded, saying nothing. I walked to the door, exiting the house. I took one of the two boats Erik had, navigating the water with tears in my eyes. I had acted without thinking, and that was unforgivable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Stupid child. What did you think would happen if you opened the fence?" Father yelled at me. It was really his fault. If he hasn't locked me out back, I wouldn't have opened the fence and let the chickens out. I shruggef shaking my head. "What did you think!?" 'Nothing' I signed."Exactly!" He yelled, "You never think. Do you even have a brain in that fat head of yours? I shook said head. "You will pay for new chickens out of the food you eat, or shall I say the food you won't be eating for a week." I nodded meekly. It was useless to argue, not that he would even understand me if I did.

It was a very hungry week.


	8. Il Muto

It was the day of the performance, and I was waiting in the wings. I had no place on the flys tonight. I watched silently as everything happened, not moving a muscle.

"I hear that that this youth has set my lady's heart aflame..." I mouthed the words, knowing them by heart.

"Sarafima, away with this pretense! You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence."

"Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept emtpy!?" Erik shouted. It was impossible to pinpoint his voice, it seemed as though it came from everywhere at once. I found comfort, even as I shivered at the anger I found in it. Meg screamed out. 

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera!"

"It's him. I know it, it's him," Christine spoke fearfully. But...why? How could she recognize him? Then it clicked. It was her down there that day, the day I near died. It was Christine he sang so sweetly to. I felt jelousy rise in my heart, but I stomped it down. She had done nothing to me, and Erik loved her. The fact of it stung, but if she was what was best for him, I wouldn't resent her.

"You're part is silent, little toad." I could hear Erik's voice, but it was too quiet to tell what he said. Carlotta directed the conductor to start up again, and the play resumed. "Sarafima, away with this pre...tense." They did the actions though the skirt was aleady gone. "You cannot speak! But kiss me in my husband's ab-croak!" I stared at her in shock, as did most everyone in the opera house. "Poor fool he makes me laugh! Haha haha-croak!" Carlotta continued to croak as she attempted to sing. 

"Behold, she is singing to bring down the chandelier!!" Erik screamed. Sure enough, it was shaking and rattling on its chain, swinging back and forth. The crowd screamed.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please, remain in your seats. The performance will continue in ten minutes time, when the roll of the countess will be sung by Miss Daae." Everyone rushed offstage as monsieur Andre announced he ballet in act three would now be performed. As I watched the chaos of the girls rushing to get onstage and get everything in place, I was glad I had declined Madam Giry's offer. I walked further back, to where Carlotta was fuming.

"Signora, you must!" 

"No!" She cried in her accent. Thankfully the croaking was gone. I walked up closer. Everyone looked at me, and I saw a light go on in Monsieur Firman's eyes.

"Andre," he nudged him, gesturing to me. Andre nodded. "Mamzelle, can you act?" I nodded. "And you know the play?" 'Yes'. "Mamzelle, would you do he the honor of being out Sarfima?" My eyes widened. Surely...could I? No. But, why not? Following my gut, I nodded. 'I would be honoured.'  
"Wonderful! Wonderful! Now, we must get your costume. They grabbed my arm and pulled me to the dressing room where Madam Giry was doing up Christine's corset. They explained I was to play Sarafima and left me in her hands. Shyly, I pulled on the boy-clothes as fast as I could. Thankfully, the sleeves covered my bruised and scraped arms, and the pants covered my legs equally as well. I was ready to leave, but Madam Giry pulls me back and applied heavy makeup to my face. When she was satisfied, we shoved me out and gently led Christine to the stage, but not before handing her a single red rose, tied in black silk. As soon as Madam Giry left her alone, Christine ran to our patron, the Viscomte. He led her back to the wings, and we watched the ballet. I heard sound from the flys, and ran up. Something was wrong if those boys were making noise.

Up in the flys, everything was normal. Except...where was Buquet? He knew better than to abandon his post during a show. I heard the sound again, and I recognized it as heavy breathing. I followed it to an abandoned part of the flys. Erik stood, lasso around Buquet's neck. He was strangling him. I clapped my hands loudly to get Erik's attention. It worked, and Erik turned to me in shock. I pleaded with my eyes for him to leave it be. Something in his eyes shifted, and he stood, letting go of Buquet. It was a mistake. The man fell, snapping his neck in the fall. Chorus girls screamed along eith the crowd, and I rushed to Buquet. I quickly dropped the rope, and I heard his body thud to the floor. Buquet...no...

The shouting was drowned out by my terror. I had just caused a man's death. I turned to Erik, only to find him gone. I had killed a man, after all. I could feel his blood covering my skin, but as I looked nothing was there. I ran, heading first to the dormatories. But I couldn't stand to be seen ever again. I quickly changed my course, headed instead for the roof. The building was tall...It would work.

Standing inside, the door in front of me, I heard singing. I recognized one as Christine, but the other was unfamiliar. I listened to them sing, and I knew it was the Viscomte. Christine was in love with the Viscomte. I knew Erik would be heartbroken, and that fact broke my heart with each word. I would have to wait for them to leave before I went out.

"I must go. They'll wonder where I am..." I hid behind the door as they came inside, still singing to each other of their love. Thankfully, the door kept me hidden, and once they were out of sight I dashed out into the roof. Erik knelt, holding Christine's abandoned rose. I watched as he sang of his love for her, heart breaking at each word. He would never love me that way. I ran behind a statue as he turned and stalked down into the opera house. Finally alone, I allowed myself to cry. I cried silently for myself, then sobbed loudly for Erik. I struggled to breath, hyperventilating. I slowly walked to the edge of the building. I just want it to end... The music in my head escalated, and I recognized its warning. Something at least cared if I died. But it was just music, music Erik could keep company. I was balanced on the edge now, arms spread out beside me for balance. Goodbye, Erik. I love you.

I leaned forward.


	9. After The Performance

Arms reached out and captured my waist, and with a grunt I was pulled back to the roof. I collapsed on top of the man who had grabbed me. I heard a clatter. The arms releasd me as I fell on him, and I immediantly rolled off to find Erik, mask off, struggling for breath. I gasped. 'Are you OK?' I quickly signed, even though his eyes were closed. He groaned, shifting onto his side. He stood, and I looked up at him from where I knelt on the ground.

"Why on earth would you try and throw yourself off the top of a building?! Are you insane?! You can't do that! I--what?" I was waving to get his attention. I lifted a hand to the side of my face, staring him in the eyes. He followed my motion and realized his mask was missing. I smiled softly as he located and lunged for it where it lay in the gathering snow.

When his mask was securely on, he turned back to me, and I swear I saw the hint of a blush covering his cheek. I smile brightly at him. He really is amusing. "Now...why on earth did you do that?!" He gestured to the buiding's edge, and I sighed. Not bothering to sow down of spell anything out, I started to explain. 'You love Christine and I love you and I know you dont love me and I'm no good at anything and my mother was right to abandon me, my father right to try and put me out of my misery and I don't know why you saved me, I truly don't deserve this life and I'm sorry.' Erik stared at me dumbly, not understanding most of what I said. When I signed sorry, he immediantly walked to my side. Kneeling beside me, he pulled me into a hug. "Don't be sorry, dear Chris. Not for anything, do you hear?" He sighed against my hair. "I should be sorry. And I am. I'm sorry about your father, and about everything I've done to upset you." He pulled away, holding me at arms length. His black jacket and wig were dusted in snow. "I didn't mean to yell. You just frightened me. I care about you, Chris. Please don't try that again." I nodded, greatful. I hadn't meant to hurt him; I didn't think he would care.

I was clearly wrong.

He pulled me back into another hug, and I felt tears dropping on my back. Maybe he didn't love me as he loved Christine, but he cared, and maybe that was enough. I wrappedy arms around him and sighed gently. He pulled away, and finally noticed my clothes.

"Sarafima?" I smiled. "Why, you must go! They're waiting for you to start the performance!" I laughed a little and stood. Erik stood with me. 'Will you be watching?' "They took my box, but I won't let that stop me. Not when both you and Christine are onstage." I smiled again and rushed towards the door. I was halfway down to the stage when Madam Giry found me. She roughly grabbed me and and pulled me to the stage managers.

"Child, there you are! We have been looking everywhere for you!" I signed a quick sorry, ripped my arm from madam Giry's grasp, and rushed onstage, where Christine was waiting.

I lost myself in the character and music, and before I knew it it was curtain call. I came out, all on my own, and curtsied in my boy clothes, I heard, not a shout, but a whisper. "Brava, Brava." I recognized Erik's voice. I smiled wider and curtsied again, looking up at the chandelier. Behind its bright glory, I saw a black figure. I moved to my spot on stage left, allowing Christine to come forward and bow.

Backstage, I changed out of my boy clothes into my cotton dress. Too excited to go to sleep and unsure if I could visit Erik, I wandered the opera house. I was playing over the performance in my head, the rush of the music and being onstage. I soon found myself in a secluded and abandoned part of the house, and I enjoyed the solitude. Suddenly, I was pushed against the wall. My head cracked against it, and my vision was covered in spots darker than the shadows. I hadn't realized I'd cried out in pain until a hand clamped over my mouth and a voice hissed at me to "shut it". The man pressed his body against mine, and I gagged at the scent of him. He smelled of sweat and something I had only smelled once. It was sticky-sweet, and I was immediantly lost to the flashbacks of my brother. His rough hands and hard member pressing against me, his tounge forcing its way into my mouth...I was pulled from the memory by the sound of ripping fabric. Cool air brushed my skin where my linens didn't cover. The ripped fabric of my dress fell from my shoulders. I felt the man's eyes raking over me, and his hands gripped my skirt, ready to tear it off. I struggled, but one slap of his strong hands sent a shockwave of pain through my head, and I fell backwards, relaxing into the wall for support. This cannot be happening again! Please, not again! I squeezed my eyes shut as I prepared myself for that which I could not stop.

The man was pulled off of me, and cold air rushed onto my exposed skin, my thin linens doing nothing to keep out to cold. I opened my eyes and found the man on his back, Erik standing over him. He was breathing heavily. He grabbed the man by the collar and hoisted him off his feet. "You dare to touch a lady like that?!" Erik slammed him against the wall, and I wimpered. Erik immediantly turned to me. "Chris...are you alright?" I shook my head, pushing off the wall. I launched myself at him, and he let the man go to catch me in a hug. I started to cry, truly cry. I was racked with sobs, and a made more noise than I had since forever ago. He started petting my hair and sushing me,  and I smiled at his comforting. I pulled away, tugging on his sleeve. Let's go, my eyes pleaded. I could see him try to argue, but something stopped him. He nodded.

Eri's POV   
She wants to let him go?! After all he did to her?! I opened my mouth to argue with her, but light reflected off the tears on her cheeks, and I saw the trust in her eyes. She had seen me try to kill before, she knows I have, and yet she doesn't see me as a monster. Shaking my head, I let her pull me forward with another tug on my sleeve. She smiled, and I pulled her close to me as we walked away. Surely the man would stand there,  confused, for a long time before his senses returned to him. I bristled. The man hadn't even smelled of alcohol. He had chosen to attack my beautiful Chris. Before I knew it we were at the boat, and I grabbed the pole. I smiled slightly as I remembered hearing Chris' first attempt at steering the boat. She bumped into every wall...I chuckled a little, and Chris turned to me. I smiled down at her, and she returned it with one of her own. I loved it when she smiled. It was like the sun shining just for me. She turned back around, and soon we were home. I escorted her to the parlor, and turned to say something to her. My eyes raked over her exposed shoulders and drifted to her thin linens.

Chris' POV   
Erik blushed, and I looked down. I had forgotten how I looked, standing in my linens and skirt, shoulders bare. I blushed to match him, and slowly walked towards the bedroom. I hurried to change into a nightgown, and put a robe over that. I walked back to find Erik seated at the piano, staring at the keys. He never touched them. He turned to me as I walked in, and pulled me over to the couch. I looked at him, confused, and he smiled softly. "You're bleeding." I reached up to where there was pain on the back of my head, and it was wet and sticky. Upon a glance, my hand was covered in blood. I sat perfectly still as Erik tended my wounds yet again. When he was done, I found my head once again wrapped in thick bandages. "Are you tired?" I nodded, exhausted from the ordeal. "Come, let's get you to bed." I smiled and stood, and he escorted me down the hall and pulled the blankets back for me. I slipped into bed with a slight blush to my cheeks, and Erik tucked me in gently. He kissed my bandaged forhead. "Goodnight," he whispered. I smiled and closed my eyes as the door closed behind him.


	10. Ten-Discoveries

**Erik's POV**

I sat at the piano, melodies drifting through my head. Seeing her like that, trusting and half-naked in front of me, I couldn't deny that my thoughts had gone somewhere dark and unforgivable. I shrugged it off and started heading for bed. I pulled off my mask, I didn't bother removing my wig, and changed for bed. Halfway into my night clothes, clad in nothing but my trousers, I heard a small moan. Chris. My first thought was to run to her, but I figured it was nothing to wake her over. The moan ceased, and I forced myself to relax. " _Noooooooooo! Please, brother!!!_ " The screams were louder than words could possibly describe, and the wordless scream that followed them turned my blood to ice. I don't remember racing to her room, but there I stood at the foot of the bed, watching Chris tangle herself in the sheets as she writhed in pain. She screamed again, and I rushed to the side of the bed. I shook her. She continued to scream, scratching at her skin. Blood welled in the marks her fingernails left, and I panicked.

"Chris. Chris, wake up! Please wake up. It's only a nightmare." She seemed to calm, just a little, and I continued to whisper in her ear. "I will never allow anything to happen to you again. Never." She finally relaxed several minutes after that, and, once I was sure she would not be pulled back in the nightmare, I turned to leave.

"Erik..." She grabbed at my arm, and I shuddered at the sound of my name. It sounded perfect on her lips. "Stay with me. Please." I looked over, she was still half asleep, and I doubt she knew what she was saying. Still, I couldn;t deny her her request. Climbing into the bed beside her, I pulled the blanket up to cover us both. She snuggled into my side, and her hand came to rest over my heart. Awkwardly, I put my hand around her shoulders, and she snuggled closer. Within minutes of her breath calming back into a deep sleep, I fell into one of my own.

 

**Chris' POV**

I woke to the feel of naked arms around me, and, for a moment I panicked. Careful not to wake the man beside me, I turned my head to see Erik, mask off, sleeping soundly beside me. 

 _Wait, what?_  

Sure enough, there he was. My body caught up to me then, aching all over my stomach and thighs. I looked down to find myself covered in scratches. Upon inspection, my nails had caused the damage. I tried to sit up, hoping to find the medical kit and bandage myself up, but Erik's dead-weight arm kept me pinned in place. Huffing, I held still and thought. Nothing worked to free me. Finally, in desperation, I decided that it would be a  _lovely_ idea to straddle his hips and roll myself off the opposite side of the bed. Surprising success. Moving off to find the kit, I explored the rooms of his house I had never before been in.

I decided not to search Erik's room, and that left me with one other. The door looked like any other, but it gave off a bad feeling, causing goosebumbs to crawl up my skin. Still, I opened it, only to find pitch black darkness. Curious, I stepped in further. 

The door slipped from my grasp and slammed shut. I raced to open it again, only to be met with smooth glass walls.  _What the?_ Finally, I realised I had no choice but to wait for Erik to come and find me. 

**Erik's POV**

I woke slowly, drifting from a place free of nightmares. Still, something felt off. I looked down to make sure Chris was safe, only to find her gone. I got up and wandered the house, getting more and more panicked with each empty room. In desperation, I flung open the door to the observation deck. i hit several buttons before finding the lights. There she was, sitting with her back to the door, blinking in the blinding light. Her eyes adjusted while I stood, staringin shock. She began to hum Daun Waun, and I snapped back to reality. I quickly went to the door. 

**Chris' POV**

I knew already that Erik had disocvered me, so I was on my feet just as the door flew open. Erik rushed to me, and I laughed. I was quickly silenced by his lips pressed to mine, rough and passionate and hesitant. My eyes closed as my tounge darted forward to beg permission into his mouth. The hesitation left and I was met with his tounge. We stayed like that, his arms on my waist andmine tangled in his wig, for long enough for both our lips to swell. He pulled away, and the memories of my nightmare flooded me. 

_I spoke._

Erik saw disbelief in my eyes, as much from that fact as from his kiss, and his smile faded to allmost nothing. "Erik..." It was quiet, like a secret prayer, but it was enough. We were kissing again, his hands wandering up and down my back as mine tangled in his wig. I brushed my fingers to his face, tentitavely, and felt him stiffen. I pulled away slightly, just enough for my to plant a kiss on his deformed cheek. I rocked back to see his eyes, and found there the silent version of the words I knew he couldn't articulate. "I love you, too, Erik." He leaned in to kiss me again, but I pushed him away, just hard enough for him to know I meant it. "Erik..." My stomach was throbbing with the pain of my cuts being pressed against his bare chest, and I needed a nice warm bath and a new dress--one that wasn't torn open. Erik, who had apprently become so good at reading my silent clues, understood and opened the secret door. He sat me down in the parlor before retriving the medical kit. He came back, and I stood. "Thank you." He looked at me quizically. "Erik, the wounds are under my dress..." my sentance fell to a whisper, and he blushed. He held out the medical kit and I took it, kissing him on the cheek. 

Erik walked me back to the bedroom. I ran a bath while he watched me shuffle aroudn the bathroom. 

"Staring is considered rude, you know," I smirked as I turned to face him.

"It is so good to hear your voice again," he responded sincerely. I walked over and kissed him sweetly. His hands gripped my waist, and I cried out in pain. His fingers had dug right into one of my claw marks. He jumped back, terrified. I took a step toward him, and he backed away.

"Erik, it was an accident. I'm fine, see?" He slowly nodded, and I smiled up at him.

"I...I'll...be in the kitchen..." Erik left, leaving me to strip off the ruined dress and clean the wounds. I started with a bath, getting all the blood off of me. Then I was left to bandage my stomach and sides. I had some cuts up my arms as well, but they weren't as deep. I bandaged them anyway and sat at the vanity, brushing my hair. How could Erik love someone like me? I was broken, used, tortured...inside and out. And yet, here I am. This fact surprised me more than the fact I had started speaking again. I continued to think as I brushed my waist-long brown hair, though it was already knot-free.

Finally, I put down the brush with a sigh and suppossed I should just have to ask Erik why he loved me. I stood and dressed in the prettiest of the dresses in the wardrobe, surprised to find it made of the cotton fabrics I so loved. "Erik," I called as I left the room. I walked into the dining room and found him carefully setting plates down, covered in steaming food. He looked up at me and smiled.

"Hello, my love." He kissed me softly on the lips, and I could tell we were both fighting to stop there. Finally, he found the strength I didn't have and pulled away. "You must be hungry." I nodded and sat in the chair he pulled out for me and waited for him to sit in his chair. We ate in comfortable silence, eyeing each other from across the table. With a gulp, I spoke.

"Thank you, Erik."

"Whatever for?"

"For saving me, thrice now...for being my friend. For being more."

"Chris..."

"And for showing me I was wrong when I thought I was better off dead." I stared at the ground and waited for him to tell me I was wrong, that he hadn't intended any of this. There was not a sound, when suddenly his hand was on my shoulder. I jumped, waiting for the strike, and he sighed.

"Chris. Chris look at me." I did as he said. My eyes softened as I gazed upon him, maskless, kneeling beside me. He pulled me in close, resting his forehead on mine. "Chris...my beautiful Chris...it was my pleasure to be able to help you. You are so beautiful...too good to waste on such a short life. I love you."

"Why, though?" I cried, "I'm broken, I'm used, I've died inside. I'm...nothing."

"No, Chris. You are  _everything_. I love you because you are beautiful, and strong, and so smart. You can sing and dance and act..." he sighed. "If anything, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you." His eyes were closed in shame and fear. I leaned forward the rest of the way and kissed him briefly.

"Erik...you have saved my life three times, cared for me, made me feel beautiful. You are a good soul. Never let anyone make you think otherwise, okay?" He nodded and I kissed him again, deeper this time. He rose slightly, leaning into me where I sat. I arched my back to be closer to him, and he gently wrapped an arm around my waist, careful to avoid my cuts. I placed my hands on both sides of his face and mumbled against his lips. "I love you, Erik." He growled, and I pulled away laughing. He tried to kiss down my neck but I pushed him away. He pouted, but went back to his seat. I was done eating, my plate half empty, and so I sat, watching Erik and pushing food around on my plate.

"Why do you do that?"

"Hm?" Erik gestured with his fork to my plate.

"You're not eating."

"I ate."

"Not very much."

"I'm not very hungry," I shot back. I sighed and looked him in the eyes. "Erik, you know I couldn't possibly eat all this food. I'm not accustomed to it."

"Well, I hope someday to have you eating everything I give you." I laughed a little.

"Maybe someday," I smiled. He returned it, and continued to eat. Something about this new silence seemed akward, not as comfortable. It was a long time before Erik opened his mouth to speak. With the smallest of a shake of his head, he closed it, staring hard at his plate. "Erik?"

"I wonder, Chris, if perhaps...you would sing for me?" I was taken aback. Whatever I had expected, it was not this. I smiled, recovering from my shock.

"I would be glad to." Erik whipped his head up to look at me, and I smiled for him. His eyes softened, and he nodded gratefully. I stood and started clearing the table. He stood with me, taking the plates from my arms.

"Go pick some music to sing and I'll accompany you." I nodded my consent and left him to clean the table. I looked in his files of music for something I recognized. I was distraught as I found opera after opera I didn't know, until I came upon Hannibal. I pulled up Think Of Me, the only solo song in the score. I read over the music quickly to make sure it was firm in my brain-it would be terrible to forget the words in front of Erik. I was standing by the piano, waiting for Erik, when I remembered this was Christine's song she had sung in her first Prima Donna role. I grabbed it off the piano, scurrying to hide it back among the score. Erik walked in as I was placing it back, and I knew it must have looked as though I was pulling it out. "What song have you?" Sheepishly, I passed him the music, and he barely looked over it before setting it at the piano and taking his seat. I opened my mouth to say we could find a different song, but he started to play the introduction, and I knew there was no turning back.

" _Think of me, Think if me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while please promise me you'll try, and on that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free, if you can still remember, spare a thought for me_..." I was lost in the music, and I finished the Aria on a perfect high note. Erik stared forward at he piano. I laid a hand on his shoulder, and before I could say his name or ask if he was alright he turned and pulled me into his lap, lips on mine.

"That was...incredible," he panted when we finally pulled away. I smiled.

"If this is my reward, I'd sing for you all the time."

"I think I'd like that."


	11. Elevevn-Old Friends

**Chris' POV**

I watched the performance from the flys, where I was scurrying around with everyone else at every scene change. If had been five months now since Il Muto, and the Erik and my confessions of our love. I spent nights and non-rehersal days under the opera house with Erik. No one really talked to me but him, and I was okay with that. Jaques hadn't bothered me since our kiss, but that was mainly for my avoiding him. He was sweet, yes. But my heart and soul were Erik's. So, I avoided him at every turn. He always approached me at the end of the performances, but, if my duties allowed it, I slipped out down to Erik before the opera ended. The girls of the dormatories never knew where I spent my nights. I was simply never in the dormatories.

Once Messieurs André and Firman announced the masquerade ball, I raced down to Erik. I heard Jaques calling my name, but I ignored him and ran until I reached the boat. As I disembarked from the boat, I raise my hand to my eyes. I took one step on shore, then another. I knew exactly where Erik would be, as I had had one too many encounters with him before where I was unprepared for the lasso. When it wrapped around my neck, I simply laughed. As soon as Erik heard my voice, he laughed with me. I expected him to take off the rope, but instead he growled and pulled on it. I stumbled forward and his lips trapped mine in a passionate kiss. I giggled against him and wrapped my arms around his neck. I hated the feeling of the porceline mask against my cheek, but I was too caught up in the kiss, in being close to him, to care. As if he read my thoughts, he took one hand off my waist and pulled the mask from his face. I smiled and pulled away from his lips to kiss at his scarred jaw. He pulled me even tighter against him and tangled one hand in my hair. Finally, dizzy for breath, we pulled away.

"You're early today," Erik said in astonished joy. I smiled.

"I just got the best of news!" He threw his head back laughing at my excitement. "Our managers are throwing a new year's masquerade ball!" He looked at me in confusion, a small smile still on his face. "Oh Erik, come with me! Be my date!"

"Chris..."

"Come on Erik! You get to dress up, and everyone will be wearing masks! It's perfect. No one will know who you are! Please, Erik." He turned and led me into the house, brow creased in thought. I was glad he was considering it. Even if he said no, I know he weighed the pros and cons.

"My Chris, my angel...I will go to the ball." I squeled, and he held up a hand, a sad look on his face. I deflated. What was wrong? "I will go..." he paused, "but not as your date." My gut clenched, knocking the air out of me. I knew this was too good. No one as kind and talented as Erik would ever love me, not for long. I nodded, holding back the tears. "My dear! Don't cry! I said I would not go as your date, I do hope, however..." he dropped to one knee. I was confused, until the box came out of his pocket. My hands flew to my mouth in shock. It couldn't be...could it? "Chris, will you be my fiancé?"

"Erik..." I was choked up. I dropped to my knees in front of him. Staring into his eyes, blue and warm, I found my voice again. "Erik. It will never make sense to me how you could love me. But, if you are prepared to spend a lifetime in my presence, I will gladly marry you." His eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and he pulled me in for a rough kiss, all his feeling bared to me. We kissed like that, tounges dancing together, for what felt like forever. When we pulled away, both our lips were swollen, and I laughed and gave him one more quick kiss. He stood, pulling me to my feet with him. He slipped the ring, a beautiful diamond, onto my finger. I smiled brightly and hugged him, before jumping away. "I have to start making my costume! We only have a month before the ball!" He laughed.

"Would you like some help?"

"I can sew. Besides, I want it to be a surprise." Erik laughed again, and the sound made my soul leap.

"Very well, my dear." He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me again, sweetly and with a soft passion. Passion completely opposite the rough need we had before.  
______________________________

"Chris? Are you dressed?"

"Almost!" I shouted back. It was the night of the masquerade ball, and I stood in front of the vanity, curling my long aburn-brown hair. "Just go. I'll find you upstairs."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. See if you can find me." I really wanted this to be a surprise, and I had a feeling we would find each other right away. I hoped he liked my dress. I had spent the last month sewing peacock designs onto the blue dress, creating the cape and fitting it perfectly. Of course, the fabric came from Erik's money, and I used his sewing machine, but I had made sure he didnt get to see it. There was a sigh from beyond the door and the sound of Erik walking to the boat. "Love you too!" I called sweetly, rewarded with his laugh.

"I will be by your side the moment you hit the dance floor, my angel."

"Don't forget, no one knows I talk!" I had decided the night after I began talking that I would remain silent in front of everyone in the cast and crew. If Erik could bridge the language gap, so could they. Over the last five months Erik had quickly learned fluent sign language, so we could communicate without speaking.

My hair was finished, but I stood waiting in the mirror to be sure Erik had left. It never crossed my mind that he could wait for me and ruin the surprise. I knew he would honour my wishes and head up to the ball. I hummed to myself as I waited, finally deciding that Erik was far enough ahead, I left our room and headed to the shore. I was careful not to ruin my dress boarding the boat.

I rowed across the lake, then carefully landed on the shore. I walked up the path to box five, excited to see Erik. I had made a point not to look at what he was wearing, even though he made no effort to hide it from me. I looked from behind the curtain to be sure the box was empty; it was. I slipped out and fixed my hair one last time, fastening my blue and green mask over my eyes. I decended the grand staircase, but no one seemed to notice, save three men. One was dressed in black and white, with a gold mask covering his face. The next was a large, flimsy man who seemed, from what I could see of his mouth, rather angry. And finally, there was the third man. I glanced at him, and my heart stopped. It was Erik. His face was covered by a skeleton mask, and he was dressed all in red, save his black boots. Desire rose inside me, and I had to fight to decend gradually instead of running towards him. As soon as I was at the bottom of the stairs, I made to him, but was intercepted by the man in the golden mask.

"Chris," he greeted me, but I didn't recognize his voice. It dully set off a bell in my head, but I was clueless as to his name. "I've been looking to talk to you, but you always disappear after rehersals." I nodded, trying to keep a small smile so he wouldn't see my confusion. Who would be searching for me? I racked my brain, but to no avail. Just then, an arm snaked around me, and I smiled at the familiar warmth. I turned so he could see my hands. 'Erik thank goodness!'

'Who is this?' I felt the question, and it's answer, were more important to him than he realized.

'That's the problem, I don't know.' Erik nodded, and turned to the man.

"Hello, monsiuer, I am Erik."

"Jaques. It is a pleasure to meet you." He eyed Erik's arm that remained firm on my waist, and I knew he was lying. I became angry that he dare to be mad at Erik for something so right. Then the name registered, and I gasped slightly. Erik turned to me.

'What is wrong?'

'Erik...I know him.' The sentence made Erik tense, and I knew what he was thinking. 'No, Erik. He works in the flys with me. Before we met...he...kissed me...' I trailed off, and I could feel the agitation rolling I Erik in waves, matching the confusion coming off Jacques.

'He kissed you.'

'It was long before we met. I am sorry.'

"Do not apologize, my love. You did nothing wrong, or worthy of forgiveness." Jacques stared at Erik.

"You understand her?" Erik turned to him.

"Quite well. She taught me everything I know of sign language."

"That's...nice?" It came out as a question, despite his best efforts. I waved my hand to get Erik's attention, and Jaques' eyes locked into my engagement ring.

'Erik. Translate?' He nodded. 'Jaques, this is Erik. My fiancé.'

"She says to tell you that I am her fiancé." Jaques stumbled back a step.

"Fi-fiancé?" I sighed.

'Yes, my fiancé.' Jacques nodded, stumbling back another step. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away. 'That was a disaster.' Erik laughed.

'Hopefully not all bad, was it?'

'No. I finally got to tell someone we're engaged.' A thought occured to me. 'By the way...'

'Yes?'

'What shall I be called?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well I can't be called Mademoiselle Bellerose.' He smiled in slight confusion.

'Destler. Erik Destler.' I smiled wide. Pulling him onto the dance floor, I laid my head on his chest and whispered.

"Then I shall be Mademoiselle Destler." I felt Erik shiver and the thought, and I laughed gaily. "I love you, Erik Destler."

"And I love you, Chris Bellerose."  
______________________________

Erik and I danced the night away, enjoying ourselves and not paying attention to anyone else. I didn't know where Jacques had gone, nor did I care. Let him be upset. I was marrying my love soon, and nothing could dampen my mood as we got to spend the whole night together in front of everyone. That is, until a familiar skinny man with brown hair and eyes tapped Erik on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" He asked politely. I squeezed Erik's hand and he nodded.

"Of course, Monsiuer." Erik took my hand and placed it in the strangers. He took it and we started to dance. He seemed to know I didn't talk, for he didn't try to make conversation. I trusted Erik not to let anything happen to me, but this man scared me nonetheless. I often glanced over his shoulder to Erik, who stood talking to Monsieur André. I laughed, knowing the latter would not be so relaxed of he knew who Erik was. The man, who's name I still did not know, frowned at my smile. The song finished, and I went to curtsy a goodbye when he grabbed my arm, interlacing it with his.

"You look parched. Let me get you a drink." He led me to the bar, and ordered us both a drink. I smiled politely, but it wasn't genuine. I looked over my shoulder for Erik, but couldn't see him. Suddenly, I was pulled roughly into the hallway, pushed against the wall. I smelled alcohol on the man's breath, and suddenly I realized who he was-my father. "You little wretch!" He said as he slapped me, "you think you can just sneak off and leave the family without you? You think you, a servant, can just abandon your employers?" He continued to beat me as he spoke, and I recoiled against the wall, my hands up in defense. He forced my hands down and quickly pulled his up to wrap around my throat. As he slowly tightened his grip, i pulled in as much air as I could.

"Erik!!!" I screamed, as loud as I could. My father's eyes widened and his hands relaxed slightly. "Erik! Help!"

"You talk?" He scowled and his grip tightened again, stronger than before. I gasped for breath, but none came. The last thing I remember before passing out was the hands releasing me, and I fell. I fell into blackness as I fell to the floor.

_______________________________________________

I stirred, feeling a hard wood surface beneath me. I turned my head and opened my stinging eyes. I saw only blurs of colour, and when I tried to speak my voice would not come. As I began to panic, fearing I had died, a soft humming came, and I recognised Erik's music and it's haunting, fearful melody. I smiled and slowly closed my eyes, drifting back off to sleep.

I stood in blinding sunlight, my arm brought up to cover my eyes. Squinting, I saw a figure approach from the sun. I recognised Erik right away. Smiling, I ran towards him. I noticed the angry look on his face and ran faster. "Erik!" I fell to the floor, face stinging. "Erik?" Had he...hit me? He growled, but it wasn't playful like those I had heard before. This growl was...rageful.

"Have I taught you nothing?"

"Erik, what are you talking about?"

"After all this time you haven't learned? Your brother, your father. You actually thought I wanted you?" He kicked me in the stomach, and I curled in on myself.

"Erik, please," I wimpered.

"Good gracious! Shut up! Don't you understand? No one wants you!" He screamed, continuing to kick and hit me. Crying, I continued to defend myself as Erik treated me the only way I knew.

 **Erik's POV**  
I laid Chris softy in her bed, still humming. I left quietly, leaving her to rest and recover. How could I let that happen to her? I was supposed to protect her, and I let her be near killed by her father. Shaking my head in shame, I heard a small moan from behind me. Chris. She must be having another nightmare. I ran back to the room, and grabbed her, holding her close. She continued to writh in pain. Her nails started to dig into the skin where they ran, and I had to force her arms to her side. I tried to wake her up, to talk to her, but she was trapped in her own head. "Chris please! Wake up!" I was desperate to ease her pain, yet she continued to wimper. Broken at the sound of her pain, I started to hum to myself, my Duan Wuan. It was the only thing I could think to calm me. As the notes resonated, Chris began to calm. Finally, I was helping. Then I remembered when I first played this song for her.  _It's not the same._  Slowly, still humming, I picked her up bridal style and walked to my room. I laid her gently in my coffin of a bed and moved to the organ. I started to play, remembering when she was here beside me, playing a happy melody. I remembered everything as if it were yesterday.

 _I stood by the lake, thinking of Christine. Her voice was the most beautiful I had heard. Music played through my head, perfect for her voice._ Ding! _The alarm went off. Someone was coming. Before I could run inside to grab the Punjab Lasso, I saw someone, a girl, swimming through the lake. But...her arms weren't moving. Was she dead? Slowly, I waded into the water and flipped her onto her back. Her lips were blue and she was pale as the moon, but she was breathing. I picked her up in her heavy wet cotton dress and, with some difficulty, carried her into the house. I laid her on the couch. Flecks of red in her hair caught the candlelight, seeming to light her on fire. I stroked her cheek with my leather glove, and new music played in my head, something I had never heard before. I tended to her cuts and wounds, wishing I could make the bruises go away. Once she was taken care of, I brought her to the guest room, laying her on the silk sheets. I worried, for a moment, about the water left on her, but I dismissed the thought._

As I remembered the rest if my time with Chris, the melody of Duan Wuan grew happier, more hopeful. I recounted, throgh music, the first time I heard her speak, heard her sing. I remember when she told me how she came to the name Chris, how, much like my own story, it was an accident.

_"Erik?"_

_"Yes?" I asked, leaving he composition and turning to face her on the piano bench. She lay sprawled across the couch, book in hand._

_"If you could choose...would you change your name?" I smiled in confusion. Thinking it over, I heard, in my head, all the times my name has escaped her lips in a moan against my own._

_"No, I would keep Erik."_

_"Okay." There was a long silence as she started reading again, but I noticed her eyes didn't move. "Erik?"_

_"Yes?" I laughed._

_"Why would you keep your name?" I blushed slightly, but her eyes remained glued to the page of her book._

_"Well," I rubbed the back if my neck,  "I...I like the way it sounds." She started to nod, but I continued talking. "The way you say it, it's..." I waved a hand around, lost for words. She startled up and stared at me._

_"The way...I say your name?" She questioned, a cute look of utter disbelief in her face._

_"Y-yes," I stuttered. Normally I had more control over my emotions. All that control seemed to fly out the window when I was with Chris. She smiled, blushing._

_"You're a romantic idiot, Erik. I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

I smiled at the memory, but it was quickly chased away with more. Soon my fingers flew across the keys in a way where the hope outstretched the history of pain. I knew that history would always haunt us, but maybe it didn't have to rule our lives any longer.

 _Chris' POV_  
I relaxed to the sound of Duan Wuan, and Erik disappeared. As I listened and hummed along, everything calmed. I turned, and there was an organ behind me, Erik seated at he bench, playing. He swayed with the music, and soon I was too. I started to dance, letting the music take over my body. Words came ino my mind and I sang loud and clear. I saw people appearing beside me, and they sang and danced along with me, acting all the parts perfectly.

I felt myself being pulled from the dream, and I moved my arms to stretch my aching back,  but they hit wood on either side. I opened my eyes to the roof of Erik's room, the organ still playing Duan Wuan. I sat up slowly to find Erik sitting at the organ. "Erik?" He started and turned to me, the music dying on his fingers.

"Chris!" He ran to me, pulling me into a kiss. "I was so afraid. You would not wake up!"

"I'm sorry, Erik. But I had the most wonderful dream!"

"Wonderful?" He questioned, looking confused. "But..."

"Well, it didn't start wonderful, but when I heard you playing, it turned amazing. You were there, playing Duan Wuan, and then the whole cast was performing, an opera of your music! I was there with them, dancing and singing, and it was perfectly beautiful." I ended with a sigh of contement, and Erik smiled.

"Would you like to see it come true? Your dream?"

"Oh Erik! I could never ask you to give your beautiful music to the likes of this opera house!"

"What if I wanted to?" My smile grew.

"Then I only hope you'll let me have a part in it!" I pulled him down and we kissed. Within minutes, he was, with difficulty, hovering on top of me in the coffin bed. I started undoing his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, and he groaned, pulling away.

"I can not, Chris. Not while we're unmarried," he panted. I nodded.

"I understand." Suddenly I remembered the ring on my finger. "When can we be?"

"As soon as you like." I thought for a moment.

"How about after opening night of Duan Wuan?" He laughed slightly.

"Perfect, my angel." And he kissed me again.


	12. Twelve-No One Knows

**Chris' POV**

I danced around my room in my new dress, black and white like Erik's suit. Today was the day! The Opera was finished and we were presenting it to the managers. I was too excited to speak, but my hands were shaking with nerves. I could only imagine what the likes of this opera house would think of this play. More so, what they thought of Erik. There was a light knock on my door.

"Chris?"

"Coming. I slipped my half-face black mask on and opened the door to reveal Erik, standing in his suit and mask, waiting for me. "To our manager's office then?" Erik smiled at my eagerness.

"To our manager's office." We boarded the boat together and Erik rowed us across the lake. We followed the catacombs and tunnels to the office of Monsiuers Firman and André. We entered, but they weren't there. Erik, apparently having anticipated this, slipped some notes onto their desks. "Come."

I followed Erik down the halls and to the main staircase, where I had decened in my peacock dress just a month before. With Duan Wuan's music already composed and my dream of the lyrics and dances, it was easy to finish in such a short time. Erik now stood at the top of the staircase, and the music we had rigged up came on. The managers, who stood at the bottom of the steps with Christine, the vicomte, and Carlotta and Piangi, turned. Madam Giry was there as well.

"Why so silent good Messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me good Messieurs? We have written you an opera!" All eyes turned to me with a gesture of Erik's arm. "Here we bring the finished score. Duan Wuan Triumphant!" I handed the leather bound papers to Erik, who threw them to Monsieur Firman. He caught them. "I advise you comply, our instructions should be clear. Remember, there are worse things than a shattered Chandelier!" I smiled at the mention of his destroying their prize chandelier before saving me on the roof.

"Fondest greetings to you all, a few instructions just before rehersals start." I decended the staircase as I sang, smiling at their clear confusion. "Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting 'round the stage." I now stood by Erik's side, and Piangi stepped towards us in anger. I grabbed Erik's rapier from its sheath and pointed it at him. Walking forward, I contined. "Our Duan Wuan must lose some weight!" The next part was a hiss. "It's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age." I turned to Messuiers Andrè and Firman. "And our managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts." I pointed the rapier at them, one at a time. How easy it would be to slice their throats... "As for our star, Miss Christine Daae," I spat the name, disgusted with her. Erik cut in, finishing what we had planned.

"No doubt she'll do her best, it's true her voice is good. She knows, though, should she wish to excel she has much still to learn, if pride will let her return to me, her teacher...her teacher..." She walked towards him, in a trance from his voice. His eyes went to the chain around her neck. Her engagement ring. "Your chains are still ours. You will sing for us!" Erik ran back up the steps, meeting me on the large trapdoor. I swung the rapier to produce a wall of fire, allowing Erik to open the door and have us fall. My dress came up around my waist, and I was glad for the darkness as I fixed it. We landed in the mirror maze of Erik's, and we quickly ran to different corners. Seconds after we had disappeared, the Vicomte, who we had noticed sneaking away during our little performance, dropped in. He landed on his feet and held out his rapier. I laughed, and it echoed through the space. He turned, searching for me. Erik stepped forward just enough to be seen in the mirrors surrounding the Vicomte. He turned all about, slashing his sword like a madman.

"Is the Vicomte scared?" I taunted, "Of two people in masks?"

"Who are you?!" He demanded. I laughed again. He continued swinging his rapier at the mirror images, until I noticed the door open. Madam Giry stepped in and ran to the Vicomte. She grabbed him and led him out by the arm. I smiled wickedly.

 **Madam Giry's POV**  
I was standing in the foyer when I heard familiar music ring throughout the hall. I turned and, sure as day, he was there. But, who was that behind him? He began to sing, introducing his new opera we were to perform. He gestured to the woman behind him, standing tall and regal and smiling just a touch. When the Opera Ghost finished singing, she stepped forward. I was immediantly entranced with her voice. I barely heard the words, until the beauty was replaced with venom as she spit Christine's name like bile.

I saw the Vicomte running down the steps, jumping into the maze of mirrors. I walked as quickly as I could down there through the door. I heard a taunting voice, that of the woman, teasing the Vicomte. I quickly grabbed him and left, pulling him along.

"Madam Giry!"

"Don't ask me. I know no more than anyone else."

"That's not true! You know something don't you?" I continued to argue, But he silenced me. "For all our sakes." I couldn't help but think of Meg, and Christine.

"Alright." Setting my lantern on the table in my room, I started to tell him all I knew of the Opera Ghost. When my tale was done, he looked at me.

"Who is the girl, though?" I sighed.

"I do not know. I have never seen her before."

"How does she know the Phantom?"

"I do not know," I sighed. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I can tell you no more."

"Thank you, Madam." I waved him away, weary. The door closed, and I prepared for bed.

**Chris' POV**

I followed Madam Giry, hiding in the tunnels traveling the opera house. I was standing outside her room when I heard her talking to the Vicomte. I heard her telling him about Erik, all she knew of him. Angry, I hid and waited for the Vicomte to leave. When at last he did, I slipped into the room and watched Madam Giry move to the washroom to prepare for bed. I waited patiently, noose in hand. She walked out into the bedroom, tying her robe. I slipped the noose around her neck before she could notice me, tightening it before she could put her hand up. She gasped in surprise, and I smiled. I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"If he gets hurt, it's on you, Madam." She nodded in understanding, and I smiled. "Good. Now, you will go to bed." I tightened the noose even more. "When you wake up, you will talk the managers out of whatever plan they formulate."

"How?" She gasped, struggling for breath.

"I don't care," I growled, "Just do it. Do I make myself clear?" She nodded, turning blueish. I smiled and pulled on the noose one last time. I loosened it and took it off, pushing her onto the bed and opening the door. "Oh, one more thing. No one knows of this encounter." I left.

I went back down to our home, already formulating my lie. I stepped into the boat, fully aware of the danger ahead of me. "Erik," I called once I hit the shore. He stepped out from his hiding place.

"Chris. What took so long?"

"I was lost in the tunnels." His brow furrowed. Suddenly, I was pinned against the wall, noose around my neck.

" _Don't_ lie to me, Chris." I nodded.

"Fine. I followed Madam Giry, gave her a few additional instructions about taking care the Opera goes as planned."

"What sort of instructions?" He pulled the noose from my neck, but I was still pinned by his body.

"To talk them out it any plans they make." He smiled. Then, his lips were on mine.

"I love when you show initiative." I grinned and kissed him again, deeper. We didn't break apart until several minutes later. "Come, my dear, we have a dress to make."


	13. Thirteen-Jaques

**Chris POV**

I left the ballet dormatories, ready for another day in the flys. Erik and I had decided keeping our distance was best, at least while everyone was obsessing over this new "Phantomess". So, I spent my nights in the dormatories of the opera house, rather than in its cellar with my fiancé. Jacques never talked to me anymore, and he barely looked at me. I would never admit it, but it hurt me that he wouldn't be my friend. As much as I loved Erik, I had never had a friend, at least not one who I'm not soon marrying. It would be nice to have someone at my wedding to walk me down the aisle. I didn't know who my real father was, and heaven knew my adoptive father would kill me long before he walked me down the aisle to get married. Much like I had once, he believed I didn't deserve happiness. He saw me as no more than a burden, a servent, an animal. Heck, he treated his animals better than he treated me. These thoughts plauged my mind as I walked toward the flys, where Buquet greeted me. As was the new usual, Jaques avioded any sort of contact with me. Normally I didn't care, but today it bothered me. So, I walked up to him. I knew he must have seen me from the corner of his eye, but he chose not to look at me. I tapped him on the shoulder, demanding his attention. Finally, he turned, and I smiled, waving. He titled his head in a gesture somewhat similar to a hello. I rolled my eyes, and an idea popped in my head. I grabbed his arm and started tugging, trying to run. He fought me, pulling back, and I turned to him, pleading with my eyes. I would talk to him, but not here; not where everyone can see. He froze when he saw the pain in my eyes, begging him to follow me. He sighed, and stepped forward. I smiled and started to run, with him trailing behind. I ran all the way up to box five, since everyone already knew that the Phantom went there, and pushed aside the curtains and wall. Jacques eyes were wide and worried when I turned to smile at him. I tugged him through the passage and closed the wall behind us. The torches were lit, and he followed behind me in the thin passage way as I led him to the boat. "Chris!" He stopped walking. "Where...Don't you know who lives here?" I smiled.

"Of course she does." Erik, who I knew had been watching, met us at the shore, sucessfully keeping Jaques from seeing his home. I smiled and let go of Jacques arm to go hug him. I kissed him sweetly, glad to see him after this last week. He pulled away first and turned to me. 'What is he doing here?'

'Erik,' I signed, almost annoyed. But when I looked in his eyes, I only saw love. When his eyes flicked to Jacques, however, his eyes filled with anger. 'I'm sorry. I just...'

'Hey, it's okay.' He pulled me into a hug, and I felt tears rise in my throat. 'Is there a reason?'

'No one will walk me down the aisle. I wanted...well...a friend. And he was nice, up until he found out I was getting married.'

"Chris..." he looked at me, really looked, for the first time today, and he saw the tears in my eyes, the utter lonliness. Erik filled that void in me, usually. But maybe, after all the recent events, I needed someone else.

'It's alright, Erik.'

"You!" Jacques had been watching in confusion, but recognition flashed in his mind. "Chris...you...married the Phantom of The Opera?!"

"Engaged, actually." Erik said. "We're not married. Not yet." He looked down at me, and we both smiled at the thought of us married. I smiled at Jacques.

"Don't be afraid." I spoke quietly.

"You...talk too?!" I nodded, then sighed.

"I have always had the ability to speak. I simply was forced in my household not to."

"No. No, take me back."

"Jaques please.  _Please_. Just come sit down, have some tea. We'll talk about it."

"What is there to talk about?"

"I don't want to lose you!" I shouted.

"Well you already have!" He was shouting too, and Erik stepped forward. I grabbed his arm and shook my head.

"Erik, it's okay. Jacques," I turned to the man, "If you insist I will take you back, but I would love for you to come sit with us for a while." He shook his head.

"Take me back." I nodded and gave Erik a quick kiss before I took off back down the corridor. We were about a quarter the way back when I finally spoke. "You cannot tell anyone of my speaking."

"Why pretend to be silent?"

"It is not pretend, it is my choice. I like the silence. Some days I still go without speaking."

"It's lying. Making everyone believe you can't speak."

"I never said can't, I said don't."

"Still-"

"Even if you tell no one will believe you, so you might as well drop it now." He froze in shock at the malice in my voice. I resisted the urge to strangle him with my bare hands. He may yet prove useful, I reminded myself. Soon we were standing in box five. I opened the wall and let Jacques out, then disappeared again.

I was on my way back to Erik, just passing the manager's office, when I heard shouting. Above the low timbre of the men's voices, I heard Madam Giry. "Monsieur believe me I intend no ill but Monsieur be careful we have  _seen him kill_." There was a ruckus of one talking over the other, but then a single voice cut through.

"Raoul I'm frightened, don't make me do this. Raoul it scares me, don't put me through this ordeal by fire, he'll take me I know, we'll be parted forever, he won't let me go..." I laughed near silently. Only Madam Giry's head lifted at the sound. She looked around in fear, and I laughed, louder. This time, Christine peeked up, cutting off Raoul. "What was that?" She asked, clearly frightened almost unto fainting. I laughed again, this time letting it echo.

"Now now, dear child mine. Do not cry, don't you know yet?" I laughed outright at the end, and Christine bolted out of her chair.

"Who are you?" She asked viciosly.

"Many call me the Phantomess. I rather like the name."

"Why are you doing this?" Monsiuer André asked.

"Because. I.  _Can._ " I turned and walked away, ignoring the frightened men and women. Poor Meg looked like she was going to have a heart attack.

When I got back to our house,  I told Erik of my little encounter, and we laughed together. I made a mental note to visit Madam Giry that night.


	14. Fourteen-At Last

**Chris' POV**

I finished out the days rehersals in the opera house and went down to my home, humming all the way. I was soon sitting in Erik's room by the organ as he played the introduction to Point Of No Return. "No thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love..." I sang after Erik. The plan was going perfectly so far, but I needed to be ready. I lost myself in the music and soon Erik and my voices were entwining as I imagined the movements in my head. I could almost feel my body moving. The song finished, and Erik turned to me.

"That was beautiful. You sing like that and everyone will be entranced."

"Perhaps, but only by your voice."

"No, mon amour," he said, kissing me. "By yours alone. No one will even notice I am singing." We kissed again, a battle for dominance. After several minutes, I gave in, allowing him to win this one. I pulled away, gasping for breath, and Erik started kissing down my neck.

"Erik, we must...reherse..." My voice trailed off as he nipped at the sweet spot on my neck. I mustered up the strength and pushed him off me, and he growled, pulling me into him. "Erik!" He growled again. "Don't you want this to be perfect?"

"You are perfect. Nothing else matters." I laughed.

"Come now, Erik." I gently pushed him away again, and he relented, sagging back on the bench. I glanced at the clock, and I knew Madam Giry would just be getting ready for bed. "See now, Erik. You've wasted all my time. I must go to see Madam Giry now." He playfully pouted his lips, and I kissed them sweetly, pulling away before I became lost in the kiss. "I will be back in a matter of minutes, mon amour." With that, and a quick hug, I went to Erik's room and took the hidden passage to just outside Giry's room.

As I aproached, I saw Madam Giry looking around nervously as she crawled into bed. Smiling devishly, I spoke.  "Retiring so soon, Madam?" She startled and looked for me. Her hand instinctively rose to eye level, and I laughed. "If I was going to kill you, you would be dead already."

"Who is to say you will not kill me out of passion?"

"And what would that gain me? TYou mean you don't know?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What matters is that I want to hear you tell me." She gulped and began to speak.

"Andre and Firman were looking over the opera, arguing with Piangi and Carlotta over their roles and the score. Christine walked in..." She told me of their plans, and, without a word, I vanished from my spot in the wall and went back to Erik. No doubt the poor woman would be terrified for several minutes before she dare rest. Back at our house, I looked for Erik. He was not sitting at the organ as I had expected.

"Erik?" He stood in the middle of the hsi room, staring at the walls and coffin-bed. "Erik, mon amour, what is wrong?"

"Chris...where is your baby?" I was shocked. Not once had he mentioned the fact that my brother had gotten me pregnant, much less asked about my miscarriage. 

"Erik?"

"It's been over six months, and yet you have no child to speak of."

"Erik, you know how fragile that child was, less than a month old! I lost him when my father beat me so cruelly."

"Do you ever wish you hadn't?"

"Erik, what is this about? I will admit, the child was partially mine, and for that I wish he had survived, but I cannot change the past, and now, I am glad to be able to one day bare your children." It was then I noticed the tears in his eyes. They began to fall, one by one, and I went up and hugged him 'round the neck. "Erik..."

"What of my children, Chris? What if they are born to suffer the same fate I have?"

"Erik...Erik, look at me." He lifted his eyes to my face, but not quite to my eyes. I sighed. "Erik, you are no monster. Perhaps you were treated as one, put on display to be mocked, but I know that you would never,  _ever_  allow anyone to hurt our children. You are too kind and good to put up with seeing them in pain like you and I have felt. And you know what? Even if they are scarred as you, they will still be able to find someone who loves them for who they are."

"You believe that?"

"Erik, mon amour. You've hid in the cellar of an opera house your whole life and still we managed to find each other. If you-if  _we-_ can, so will they."

He kissed me then, deep and passionate and covered in his tears. "I love you, my Chris."

"And I love you, dear Erik."

"Come, let us reherse your solo Aria." I smiled.

_____________________________________

Teh days passed in a blur of rehersals on stage and in the cellar. Erik had finished my dress for the Opera, and everything was set for opening night. Well, almost...

The night before I slept in the dormatories, though, in all honesty, I hardly slept at all. Rising early, I went to the kitchen and began to make a cup of tea for Christine. She would need it if she was going to get through this with no mistakes. Taking it up to her, I recieved a grateful "thank you" and a lovely smile. 

Everything was ready, and it was five minutes til curtain. I heard a loud crash and rushed to Christine's dressing room. I gasped as I saw her, laying on the floor, unconcious.  _Oh, Erik._  Help arrived and soon enough everyone knew that our Prima Donna had fainted and was being cared for by a doctor. Panicked, Andre and Firman struggled to get everything stopped, as there was no understusdy for Christine.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Andre called from the stage, "We are afriad that our lead suprano has fallen ill, and cannot-" The curtain opened.

**Erik's POV**

I rose the curtain, interrupting Andre's little speech about the cancellation of the performance. There was a moment of absolute silence and confusion before the cast rushed on stage and began the openeing song. I watched from above as Piangi came on and the paln of Daun Waun was revealed. He went for his costume change, and I sprang into action. I leapt down on top of him and knocked him out, hiding his body quickly. I changed into his costume right as my cue came.

"You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish, which til now has been silent...silent..." She looked stunning in her beautiful dress. Pink and black with red roses covering it, I admired my handiwork as she acted along with me, her voice entertwining with mine. How I had missed these moments. Together, we finished the song, and I broke the silence of the breath. "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime." She turned and stared at me. This had not been in the script, but I didn't care. I could not deny myself of her any longer. "Say you want me with you, here, beside you. Anywhere, you go let me go too. That's all I ask of you." We locked in an embrace, kissing each other passionately for the whole world to see. Off in the distance, I heard noise, in the back of my mind, that spoke of danger. Pulling away quickly, I ggrabbed Chris and triggered the trapdoor to the cellars from the stage. 

 

**Chris' POV**  

Erik broke script and started to sing, asking me to marry him all over again. I smiled and pulled him into a tear-stained kiss, letting all my emotion show through my lips. He pulled away, and we were falling. Falling into the cellars, we raced to his home and I quickly changed into my gorgeous wedding dress, one which Erik himself had sewn for me. Running out of my bathing room, I met Erik in his finest suit and we ran. Behind the opera house, we climbed into the waiting carriage and took off, down towards the church. We laughed and giggled as we watched the buildings race by. Soon enough we were there. Erik walked in and stood at the alter while I prepared my viel for the march down the aisle. Before I could open the doors to the chapel, Jaques stood beside me, grabbing my arm. 

"Chris."

"Jaques. What are you doing here?"

"I came to stop you. Chris, he burned down the Opera Populaire. It's in flames as we speak. This man is a murderer, Chris. I cannot allow you to throw away your life for him!" I ripped my arm out of his grasp. "No. He is kind. I don't care if he's made mistakes, so have I. He saved my life more than once, and I love him. The only way I could throw my life away is to return to the misery of my life before Erik."

"Chris, you watched him murder Buquet!"

"I murdered Buquet! It was me that caused him to fall off the platform, me who held the rope that broke his neck! If he is such a monster for his mistakes, than I am equally a monster with him." Shocked, Jaques backed away from me. 

"Chris, please..."

"Leave. Now." Without watching to be sure he was gone, I turned and opened the doors, marching down the aisle towards my love. All my anger melted away the moment I saw Erik, standing there and looking so worried and smitten. Finally, I reached him, and the priest married us befor ea congregation of none. We kissed, and I mumbled against him, "Let's go home."


	15. Fifteen-The Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Em goodness you guys, I love the Kudos and I have found they improve my life. I'm real sorry for the (super long) breaks in between some of the chapters, I've been in and out of the hospital and school for a while. I hope that now things are settled I can get back on track and have shorter periods of time between chapters. Also, I'm sorry if the last few chapters have sucked, this is my first draft and I plan to revise after I finish and before the second book as i try to weave them together. Again, thank you all so much. With all my Love,  
> Christine

**Erik's POV**

Chris and I could hardly keep our hands off each other on the carriage ride home. But when i pulled away unexpectedly, she immediately grew serious. "Mon Mari, what is wrong?"

"I do not know." Then I saw it, from my carriage window there it was, the Opera Populaire. Illuminated in the night, i froze at the sight. Chris leaned over to try and see, and I pushed her back into her seat. "Mon Amour, no." And then again, in the smallest of whispers "No..."

"Erik?" I couldn't speak. My home- _our_ home-stood in the street, lit on fire from base to roof. Finally, I regained my speech.

"Stay in the carriage." She began to argue, and I turned to her. "Please, Chris...please..." Mutely, she nodded and sat back in her chair. 

"Be careful," a single tear fell from her eye, and I knew that, if I didn't return, they would continue to fall for the rest of her life. I kissed her.

"I promise." With that I threw open the door and ran to the building. Finding my passage from the back alley to the cellars, I ducked in, tying my handkerchief around my mouth and nose. I ran to the boat and quickly rowed across, with a haste and a panic I'd never before felt. I landed on the shore, and I rushed to find what I would need. I couldn't be laden down with the dresses I had sewn for Chris, nor with my clothes. I grabbed my sheet music of Daun Waun, my black domino mask, and a bag of Franks I kept on hand for emergencies.  _Please let it be enough._ Finally, with one last glance around the home that had become a place of love rather than shame, I left.

**Chris' POV**

I did my best to stay in my seat, I really did. But when I heard the fireman's bell I couldn't help but jump out the carriage. There stood the opera house, alight with fire. The windows broke from the pressure of the heat, and I let a sob escape. How could this have happened? I saw men running out of the front doors, smoke covering their faces and clothes. Then it became clear. The men, they were the mob that had often talked of the Phantom with contempt, wanting to organize a way to flush him out. They had done this, they had set fire to my beloved home. And Erik? Where had he gone. I pushed through the crowd, searching. No one had seen him, but I managed to find  Andre and Firman, coughing from the smoke and watching the house burn. I walked up to them, still clad in my wedding dress. I was steps away, and I knew I was being rash, but I had to be sure he was safe. I opened my mouth to call out to them... _crash_. I turned just in time to see the Opera Populaire crumble, roof falling so far it surely must have hit the cellar where our home resided. I collapsed. Surely, it couldn't be. Not yet. A sob escaped, then a scream of utter pain.

 **Erik's POV**  

I could almost feel the supports to the house giving way. I had to get out, now. I was steps away from the exit when I heard it begin to crumble. I lunged for the light of the full moon, only to feel myself begin to suffocate as the walls closed in around me. My vision faded, and I lost myself to the dark.

Opening my eyes, I knew I must have died in the crash. I looked down to see my body, mask cracked and fallen off, lying in a little hollow created by the rubble. I turned to the exit, and wandered out into the moonlight. I saw Chris crumble to the ground, sobbing. She screamed, and I shivered. Even in her nightmares, she had never screamed with so much pain and loss. I wanted to run to her, to console her, but I was a mere phantom. Ironic, a twist of fate no one had seen coming. Still, when she screamed again, I ran up to her fallen form and pulled her into a hug. "My Chris..." She froze, then looked up. She near screamed again, but this time from fear. 

"Erik...?"

"Chris..." She could see me, hear me, feel me. I didn't have to leave her, not completely. "I am so sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize. Apologizing means you broke your promise, it means you're not coming back to me. I will not allow you to leave me, you hear?" She was shouting now, pulling everyone's attention. "You promised me a lifetime, and I refuse to let you skip out on that. Where are you?" There was a ferocity in her eyes, a determination that wouldn't accept defeat. I sighed and stood, leading her to the wall behind which my body was hid. She dropped to her knees, and I expected to hear another scream. I looked down in surpirse to find her pulling at the rubble, trying to dig me out. There were men who had followed behind her, curious to see what the new bride, driven insane with grief, would do. When they saw her digging, they began to laugh. "Chris..." "No. Erik, I will not let you leave me." She turned to the men. "Help me save him. My husband is in here, please." The men stood in shock for a moment, but one stepped forward. He began to dig at the wall. Others followed. Soon, there were a dozen men digging at the wall, trying to free me. I looked on in shock. Suddenly, there I was. My little hiding hole was revealed, and the men began to pull me out into the night. Chris stood to move out of the way, but was on my the second the men set me down. "Erik..." She leaned over me, face buried in my chest. She sobbed. Moving her ear up to my mouth, she waited. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. "He's breathing. Erik...you're breathing." The men immediantly called for a doctor, and none seemed to worry about my face. Chris rode with me in the ambulance, and stayed by my side through all the nurses and doctors and good and bad news. ___________________________________________________

**Chris' POV**

It was a whirlwind of medicines and doctors as I sat in the hospital beside Erik. He still spoke to me, in that filmy way of a ghost before my eyes. I often had to look back at his body and remind myself that he was still alive. One day, I decided to ask.

"When will he wake up?" The doctor looked at me sadly. 

"He has to find the strength of will to return to this world. For all we know, he may not." I nodded my thanks, and wandered back to the room. I kneel down at his bedside and held his hand, crying into the sheets. 

"You have to wake up, Erik. You can't leave me like this."

"I know, my Chris." I heard him whisper, stroking my hair. "I am trying." I nodded against the sheets, cradling his hand to my face. I leaned down and kissed it, and Erik froze behind me. I barely noticed him as I continured to kiss each knuckle, and his palm. 

"Erik. I love you. I will always love you." I kissed his cheek, then his other. I realized what it was that was happening. Erik was fading. His spirit was already detatched from his body, he may never be able to return to it. "It is okay, Erik, mon Mari." I bit back a sob. "You can go. I will be alright, mon amour. Don't stay here, not like this." Tears were streaming down my face, but I refused to cry out. I would mourn my lost groom, but I would survive to live on his legacy. Perhaps I could see the opera house rebuilt, perhaps I could compose the music that ran through our heads. As long as I had this melody with me, I would never be alone. Not really.

"Chris..." I gasped. 

**Erik's POV**

Everything went dark for a moment as my eyes slipped shut, and i panicked as my hearing faded. I fought to move, but my form would not obey. Then, slowly, my hearing came back, and I heard Chris. "...not like this." I still could not open my eyes, but I could feel her crying. Or perhaps it was my own tears. I was surprised when my mouth agreed to move, and a single word escaped.

"Chris..." I heard her gasp, and my eyes opened. I was staring at the ceiling, my hand cradled in Chris'. I slowly, with pain, moved my head to see her kneeling beside me. I was...no...it couldn't have been that easy, not after all this time. "I love you too." I spoke slowly. "And, I will never, ever, leave you." A sob escaped her lips and she pushed up to find my lips. We kissed, just briefly, before she pulled back in tear-stained laughter. I joined in, but quickly stopped at teh protest in my ribs. Just then, a nurse walked in on her rounds, and signaled for the doctor to come. WIthin hours, we were out of the streets, me leaning heavily against Chris, free from the confines of the hospital. She smiled up at me when I said to her, "Let's go find a home."


	16. Sixteen-As It Should Be

**Chris' POV**

It didn't take long fro Erik and I to decide we wanted to leave Paris. In fact, we made the decision before we even got to our hotel room. We stumbled in, me struggling to keep Eril upright with his broken ribs and very, very tired mind. I slowly easded him down on the bed, we had only gotten one room, and soon we were laying, side by side, staring up at the ceiling. "Chris..."

"Yes, mon Mari?" He looked over at me, pain in his eyes. 

"I love you." He hadn't stopped saying it since he woke up, but I wasn't complaining. As long as I got to hear his voice leaving those perfect lips, I was happy. 

"I love you too. My Erik..." I leaned over and kissed him gently, and he tried to deepen it. I knew what he was planning, and I pulled away. "Mon amour, I cannot. Not while you are hurt so." He simply nodded, and closed his eyes against the pain. "Sleep now, my love. I will be here when you awake." He mumbled incoherantly and I giggled slightly. This is the Erik I know, so soft and gentle, loving. I curled into his side, careful of his injuries, and we soon were asleep.

______________________________________________________

I woke before Erik, though that was no surprise. He has been exhausted after this whole ordeal, and I was glad to see him finally resting. I laid like that, watching him sleep, until he stirred. I kissed his forehead gently, and he opened his eyes. "Mon amour..." He whispered, and I smiled. He pulled me into a real kiss, and I smiled against his lips. When I pulled away, I spoke gently.

"Mon Mari, you must be starving. Let us break our fast." He smiled and kissed me again, holding me to his side. "Mon amour, you must let me leave if I am to cook for you."

"No. Never,  _ever_ , leave my side again."

"I won't, Erik. I promise. You can sit and watch me cook." He sighed and nodded, letting go of my waist. I crawled out of the bed and began cooking, while Erik lay in bed, his eyes never leaving me as I danced my way through the kitchen of our little room.

"Chris?"

"Yes, Erik?" My back was turned to him, my attention focused on the eggs cooking over the flame.

"Let's leave France. "

"Erik?"

"We already said we wanted to leave Paris, let's travel West, to the Americas. We will build our new life there, where no one knows us, and there is no one to be afraid of." I smiled at the thought, but it soon faded. I would never feel safe, not as long as my father was out there, somewhere, capable and willing, eager, to hurt me. Still, i replaced my smile and turned briefly to him. 

"I would follow anywhere you lead, my love." His smile was so grand I feared it might just break his face, stretching to engulf the whole of Paris in it's glory. And with that, our plans were made. 


End file.
